Day 8 – 1.5 miles…backwards.

I woke, made my coffee, ate my instant apple  cinnamon oatmeal, popped a healthy handful of vitamin I, and faced the trail. I willed my left foot to feel no pain, but my powers of persuasion were lacking. The 12+ hours off my feet had no impact on the pain level in the bottom of my left foot.

I only stumbled a few minutes up the trail before I faced reality. This was not working. There is acceptable pain, and unacceptable pain. And this pain was unknown and acute, so unacceptable.

I felt failure throbbing in my foot, and turned around. When I told myself a few days ago that I would get back on the trail and see how things went, and keep my options open if my leg wasn’t feeling better, I guess I never expected I wouldn’t feel better.

Is this 40? Is this getting old? Or have I been lucky with my feet thus far?

Not. Happy.

I made my way back to the trailhead and stuck out my thumb once again. And the ride that stopped definitely helped pull me out of my pity party. Dave and his dog Ra picked me up. On the short ride down I learned he had been an outward bound instructor for years and had even worked in wilderness therapy like me too. We talked shop and he even treated me to breakfast. I’ll tell you, when I trust that the world will provide and is full of kind and generous people, that’s exactly what I find. Attitude is everything. And so that’s when I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I’m still in an amazingly beautiful place, have a few days off before my conference, and should enjoy what I do have.

So I got the car, picked up some fruit and veg at the store, and found a hotel room to put my feet up and chill.

I ended up watching too much TV, man TV sucks. It’s so full of emptyness.

But I did a good job of not walking, and tomorrow I’ll play tourist in Tahoe.

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