Fighting My Demons All the Way up the Mountain
Just about a year ago my second son was in the wedding of a friend and for the bachelor "party" they climbed the third highest peak in Oregon, South Sister. Sitting in the Cascade Range in Central Oregon at a height of 10, 358 feet, the view is breathtaking but the hike is brutal. To quote one writer, "....the extremely difficult trail to the summit of South Sister gains a staggering 4900 feet of elevation in 5.5 miles ..." So, when they decided to put together another trip this year, of course I wanted to go.
Rewind a little bit: several years ago when we were preparing to go overseas with our mission organization we had a weekend of team-building activities, one of which was climbing a 30 foot rock wall. I climbed well for about 20 feet but didn't make it to the top. I tried again, climbed well at the bottom, but could not make it to the top. I have never felt good about that. Item two: just this last December there were several of us who had trained for a half-marathon and the day of the run arrived. I had hurt my knee a couple of weeks earlier and as a result I ran about half of the half before I had to quit because of the pain in my right knee. I still don't feel good about not being able to run the race.
So now it is Saturday and we have started the hike up South Sister. It is not too bad at the start except it is all uphill and it will never get better! I am carrying as much water as I can, a few energy bars and some basic survival stuff. My son had coached me that the best thing I could do was carry as little as possible because every ounce would punish me later in the climb.
We hiked and hiked and hiked and hiked. The summit is just over 6 miles from the trailhead, but that is the longest 6 miles that I have ever undertaken. We climbed through the mini-boulder field to the false summit and I saw for the first time the path to the top. How could I make it? It was so much further up than where we were at the time and I was already spent. Resting for awhile, drinking water, eating fruit and drinking more water helped to revive my spirits and I set out for the top. In the back of my mind were the two significant challenges that I had not succeeded at. I did not want this trip to be a third attempt and a third failure.
The final climb involves a field of loose lava gravel that might be likened to climbing a sand dune -- but a really steep sand dune. Every step forward resulted in some forward progress and some sliding back downhill. Add to that the altitude and the constant need for water (my mouth was like cotton) and progress was incredibly slow. I had to pace myself, one minute hiking, one minute resting. Every time I rested I looked up the slope and willed myself to take a few more steps. I am pretty sure that the whole way I was convinced that I wasn't going to make it another step.
Little by little, after about another hour of slow climbing I was at the top! I had survived and I was up there! There was no failure -- maybe there was even a little bit of redemption for things unfinished. In the back of my mind as I pushed up the hill was the voice of my son who had assured me several times that I would make it and I would feel great and I would be successful. His words of encouragement and his expression of faith in my ability to make it to the top pushed me step after painful step.
Together we enjoyed the view from the top.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Bono, Me, and the Kids
About a year ago I was going to go to Seattle to see a U2 concert.
Let me tell you more: my youngest son, as a Father's Day gift, purchased tickets that he and I (and two of his siblings) might attend the U2 concert scheduled for June of 2010. I was excited to be included and excited to be with my kids for an event I knew they would love.
Then there was the emergency back surgery. Not mine, but Bono's. He was in the Netherlands and had to have emergency back surgery which resulted in the postponement of the Seattle concert (and several others).
Now it is a year later. I am just recovering from my own little medical emergency, and the concert is at hand. The four of us drive to Seattle (I am driven by my children!), find what we hope to be legitimate parking and we walk to the stadium, dining along the way (sometimes a hot dog has to pass as real food). Along with thousands of others we enter the stadium and are overwhelmed with the scale and crowd and the stage and the everything else. It is an event and a large event at that.
The warm-up band plays and we enjoy it ... mostly. Then, the road crew begins to rearrange the stage and at 9 p.m. the show begins. We see the band enter, we are on our feet clapping wildly and cheering. They begin to play and we all go nuts and cheer more and clap more and we never sit down.
I can't begin to describe the joy of the evening: joy at being with my kids, the joy of knowing that they were doing something for me that they knew I would like, the joy of them being there and seeing the band play and soaking up the performance that was flawless and awesome. But most of all it was my joy in seeing my kids so enraptured, so entranced, so absorbed in music that spoke to them, that moved them. It brought such a joy to me to be with them, to be part of this experience, to be a part of their lives.
And that is the best Father's Day gift ever!
Let me tell you more: my youngest son, as a Father's Day gift, purchased tickets that he and I (and two of his siblings) might attend the U2 concert scheduled for June of 2010. I was excited to be included and excited to be with my kids for an event I knew they would love.
Then there was the emergency back surgery. Not mine, but Bono's. He was in the Netherlands and had to have emergency back surgery which resulted in the postponement of the Seattle concert (and several others).
Now it is a year later. I am just recovering from my own little medical emergency, and the concert is at hand. The four of us drive to Seattle (I am driven by my children!), find what we hope to be legitimate parking and we walk to the stadium, dining along the way (sometimes a hot dog has to pass as real food). Along with thousands of others we enter the stadium and are overwhelmed with the scale and crowd and the stage and the everything else. It is an event and a large event at that.
The warm-up band plays and we enjoy it ... mostly. Then, the road crew begins to rearrange the stage and at 9 p.m. the show begins. We see the band enter, we are on our feet clapping wildly and cheering. They begin to play and we all go nuts and cheer more and clap more and we never sit down.
I can't begin to describe the joy of the evening: joy at being with my kids, the joy of knowing that they were doing something for me that they knew I would like, the joy of them being there and seeing the band play and soaking up the performance that was flawless and awesome. But most of all it was my joy in seeing my kids so enraptured, so entranced, so absorbed in music that spoke to them, that moved them. It brought such a joy to me to be with them, to be part of this experience, to be a part of their lives.
And that is the best Father's Day gift ever!
The ER, God's Love and Sludge Suckers
I never planned on going to the ER last week; but then I suppose that is why they call it an emergency -- you don't really plan on it. Having had a routine procedure that decided to get complicated, I ended up in the ER and then stayed the night at the hospital. Having lost a fair amount of blood I realized that upon my release my normal slate of activities for that week was out of the question.
During this time the building where I live and am the manager, developed a lake in the parking lot because the storm drain became filled with sludge. Tending to be hyper-responsible, I was trying to figure out how to de-sludge the drain knowing that physically I could not (and should not) attempt the task.
That is where the goodness of God and the sludge-sucking truck converged! I was watching out my kitchen window and saw a truck pull up to a nearby drain, the operators got out, attached a bunch of hoses and they began cleaning out a drain on the sidewalk near ours. Eureka! There are people who get paid to suck sludge from drains!
This normally would not be a high point of my day, but when I realized that a.) I shouldn't be doing this and b.) God knew I would worry about it and c.) there are other people who have the equipment and skill to do these things, I immediately rejoiced and relaxed and thanked God for this small mercy.
Just to let you know: they agreed to look at my drain and in very short order had it cleaned out and explained to me how it worked and how to clear it in an emergency and that there really is no way to deal with a full drain other than to have them come now and then and clean it out. Yay for these guys! A small mercy but a great joy!
Who knew that God loved me that much?
During this time the building where I live and am the manager, developed a lake in the parking lot because the storm drain became filled with sludge. Tending to be hyper-responsible, I was trying to figure out how to de-sludge the drain knowing that physically I could not (and should not) attempt the task.
That is where the goodness of God and the sludge-sucking truck converged! I was watching out my kitchen window and saw a truck pull up to a nearby drain, the operators got out, attached a bunch of hoses and they began cleaning out a drain on the sidewalk near ours. Eureka! There are people who get paid to suck sludge from drains!
This normally would not be a high point of my day, but when I realized that a.) I shouldn't be doing this and b.) God knew I would worry about it and c.) there are other people who have the equipment and skill to do these things, I immediately rejoiced and relaxed and thanked God for this small mercy.
Just to let you know: they agreed to look at my drain and in very short order had it cleaned out and explained to me how it worked and how to clear it in an emergency and that there really is no way to deal with a full drain other than to have them come now and then and clean it out. Yay for these guys! A small mercy but a great joy!
Who knew that God loved me that much?
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