Gear Shakedown Day

It's gear shakedown day and all I've brought are Beth's overmitts and mitts to return to her, hardware and rope to repair the sled I was to use in case someone else can use it, and my -30 sleeping bag in case someone wants to buy it. I end up doing workstudy for the day; cutting and tying P-cord onto the 4 new tarps in between signing out individual and group gear, and sorting assignments that are due so they can be brought on the trip. Marc needs my -30 bag so pays me what I paid for it--win win.

I announce early to the class that I'm not able to go on the trip because of my fall. Beth takes the teachable moment opportunity to throw me under the bus and talk about our conversation about why I decided to ski the hill.

"I asked Eileen why she did it and you know what she said?  And I kid you not," Beth said shaking her head, she told me, 'Well everyone was doing it'.

That was an example of half truth and attempting to get a laugh. I wasn't following the hot doggers. I was following the ones who wedged and took their time and were okay. I just didn't do it properly.  Got a few more laughs and an "Eileen, how old are you?" comment that had already been said in essence. I told Beth that acknowledging and putting aside fear is pretty much how I've gotten through this year. But, in fact, other challenges were more controlled unlike being on skis--that I waxed myself, and flying down what turned out to be the tubing hill. Beth continued her teachable moment reminding people to use good judgment.

As the day goes on, I feel the growing sadness that I won't make this trip with everyone. I can walk okay in general but there's a nagging awareness that my hips or pelvis are feeling weak. And when I leaned against the wall putting my boots on, I thought I'd go through the ceiling from the pain. That's not a body that's wilderness worthy. I'd be even more anxious about falling which I surely would since we'll be on skis or snowshoes, carrying a pack and hauling a sled. And, were I stubborn enough to want to try it for myself, it would be a lousy leadership model by putting the group's trip in jeopardy.

Mostly, I had been dreading the unrelenting cold and the required toughness that I imagine will be necessary to get through the 9 days. Sounds like a broken record as I have written similar thoughts for the other trips. The intention is to put us through a lot of learning and arduous experience--our practicum, so that we know we can survive and know how to keep others safe on similar trips.

The day's conversations and reminders of what someone has forgotten or what they will encounter are all reminders of the leadership minutia that I won't have the opportunity to practice. I was hoping to push myself to not concentrate so much on how miserable I may feel and to be the leader, think about others and how I might positively influence the trip. Instead, I'll need to positively influence just myself. . . said realizing no island am I. I'll have 10 days with no structure--not good for me. I need to create the structure and keep moving. I have a couple of workstudy projects, need to finish my independent project, send in a couple of assignments, work on my resume, look for jobs--oh, and heal. I have no shortage of things to do. And, at least as primary, I need to find ways to be physically active despite my bad back. I want to get copies of my x-rays and see my chiropractor. Maybe I'll get some direction there as to how to move and be proactive in my healing. Won't be long before we're on to canoeing and kayaking.

Gave Jake and Ian hugs as they left. They asked if they'd see me in the morning. I wasn't planning on being in for 7-7:30 but I suppose I could see them all off. Beth suggested it would be too sad. Yeah, it would. She said she'd miss having me on the trip. She won't have to deal with my tears but she said she loves my tears that indicate growth.

I meant to take my map so that I can follow the route. I hope they leave it behind.