*The Top

Unforced Movement
Moving without trying to improve anything.

I decided to take one of the two trails I first attempted when we moved here.

There is a trail that starts at the first trail head and forks at the end. You can go right, straight ahead, or left.

Going right is the one I have been taking for a while. It goes to the second trail head. I enjoy that one because it doesn’t climb too fast and bikers usually come toward you instead of from behind.

I had not taken the one to the left or the one straight ahead for a long time.

I went on those trails before the crosswalk light was installed and never really took either one again.

Back then, there was a lot of anxiety.

Thoughts like,
"Can my body really do this at this age now?"

Heavy breathing.

Always with the intent of getting to the top.

In the few times I took those trails, I never made it to the top because the anxiety was too much.

Today, I got to the fork and decided to go straight ahead.

More as a measure. An experiment.

I wanted to see if my thoughts or feelings would be different.

This trail goes mostly straight up and then straight back down.

Harder on the body going up.

More likely a biker comes flying down from behind, even on the narrow parts.

I took it anyway.

I noticed an ant pile with very active ants working away. I remembered how fascinated I was as a child with my ant farms.

I liked watching them dig tunnels and always released them back into the wild afterward.

I saw two orange flowers I had never noticed before.

Other than that, the same thoughts crept in.

Can my body do this without rebelling?

Whenever anxiety started to show up, I slowed my pace and reminded myself that movement is medicine.

A great quote from my sister’s doctor.

I kept going.

I made it all the way to the path that would lead to the top.

I was so close that I could see exactly how the trail reached it.

I stopped.

I was confident that my body today could make it to the top.

I smiled.

But I didn’t take the extra steps.

I realized this walk was quickly turning into a project, as I have done with so much of my life.

Make it to the top.

Get better.

Be perfect.

In keeping with my walks, and life, being unforced, I turned around and headed back down.

I passed a woman, older and heavier than me, carrying a walking stick up the hill.

She wasn’t winded and didn’t look concerned.

I was proud for her.

A young man was jogging up the hill. He waved and smiled.

It felt like he was proud of me.

As I reached the fork in the trails, a biker came flying down behind me and yelled,

“Biker coming!”

It made me jump.

I replied,

“Whatever.”

And headed home.