In yesterday’s post, I told you about my hardest day on the trip. Today, I can tell you with a smile on my face that that day is but a distant memory. In fact, at one point in that post, I had compared a panic attack to labour. And like labour, where once you see that beautiful little face it’s hard to remember much else, so too is an adventure trek.
I needed to experience that feeling again. The discomfort that comes from doing something really worthwhile. Because when Hubby comes back from his trips and I look at his photos, I don’t seem him a rain storm or mentally pushing himself to get just one ridge higher. No, on the contrary, all I see is the intense beauty of the natural surroundings he has found himself in and a few happy grins with his good climbing mates. And neither does he ever talk about or seem to remember those moments. He really doesn’t.
But now I’ve documented my most difficult moments. I’ve done that because it’s easy to believe that only *those guys* can pull off an adventure trek. That for them, it’s easy. That for them, there is no discomfort. But that’s a lie. Everyone — no matter how fit or how “outdoorsy” — goes through challenging moments to experience the really spectacular ones.
And here’s another little secret about this 6-day canoe trek that I went on: any able-bodied person can do it. I am an average woman, of average fitness. You don’t need tons of experience. You don’t need fancy gear. You don’t even need age on your side. (I met many people canoe trekking that were 20 and even 30 years older than I am.)
All you need is to be willing to open that door and go through it. I had closed the door to my adventuring self a long time ago. But it’s nice to see her again. She might not look the same as she used to, but she’s still pretty good fun.