The last blog I wrote was in April of 2017; at that time, little did I know, that I would only have 4 months left with my father. My hero, my best friend, my biggest cheerleader and number one supporter in everything I did (even if he didn’t really agree). 100% HONESTY, it has taken me until this week to really feel confident and connected to life again. I don’t know if this process was “normal” and I am aware that the grief process is NOT linear in the least. The past 24 months has been like watching a movie, I see it happening, I know life is going on around me, but all I do is watch. I have taken time to engage with friends, yet leave conversations thinking, “did I really contribute to that? What did I say, why am I not feeling, well anything?” I have days where anger and rage get the best of me, and sadly my kids suffer. I have days where all I do is cry, I mean cry, like the ugly, snot ridden cry. My husband started a new job in April 2018 and he has been traveling weekly, I am thankful he is not here to see me fall apart on a daily basis. My heart literally hurts, I get short of breath, I feel like I am going to mentally break; yet something stops me from falling off that cliff.
I started hiking in November of 2017, at first my husband wanted me to mountain bike with him, I tried… not for me. So, I told him, you ride, I’ll hike. When I started it literally was one foot in front of the other… I wasn’t overweight, but I wasn’t in good cardio vascular shape either. I started small, 3 miles at a time. I took my dogs just so I would have someone to be with. I created a playlist, with one earbud in and one out (just so I can hear what is going on around me) I started. I gained a bit of confidence little by little. Then after a few weeks I decided to get really adventurous, I was going to conquer a 5 mile trail that had a 547 ft gain. Was it the hardest trail that I could do? No. But, I knew I needed to start somewhere. I was with one of my dogs, Owen, and we started. As we began to ascend I could feel my lungs burning, I was breathing deeper and my legs were starting to burn as well. About half way up I was out of breath, it was warm, my legs and feet hurt and I had tears in my eyes. Then something hit me… if my Dad could get out of bed every day to go to chemo, radiation, IV fluids and other meds, then surly I could get my ass up a hill! That is when my healing began. So, I hiked, 3-4 times a week, with one or both dogs; I learned the trail system near my house. I mapped out ways to make the journey more challenging, longer, more elevation gain. I even did a trailhead to trailhead, which was 8 miles of constant up and down.
I live in Arizona, so hiking in the summer proves to be a challenge. I found Orangetheory Fitness to help keep my in shape and ready for hiking season. The workouts are tough, but the same thought process goes through my head. My dad fought everyday to LIVE and ultimately he lost that battle. I have nothing to complain about, I am healthy, I can chose to show up or to stay hidden. The past week I have been faced with a lot of things to think about. I have had to return to life and make choices. I am finally feeling like I can function again; I may not be at 100% but I am almost there.