wanderawe

[wanderawe]

From Fat to Functionally Fit

11/12/2018

There’s a point where my past interferes with my present/future in a way that’s very frustrating. 

A lot of people have dealt with depression, and the physical tolls it takes on your body in a variety of ways. For me personally, it made me ultra sedentary, completely unmotivated to put any care or effort into myself, and dependent on engineered junk food for the quick hits of fat and sugar that would “lift” me just enough to make it through the work day. 

Depression made me fat. 

And not in a “I’m larger than the normal person, but I still live my life and love myself”. That’s why I’m not saying I’m overweight, even though technically I am. That’s a physical, quantifiable, normal state of being. I also have nothing but love and respect for people of any size who love themselves in their own skin. I’m fat, because it came from a place of apathy and self-loathing, and it became a quieter, subtler, form of self-harm than my angry teenage years chose. Everything about it in my life is incendiary and intrusive. There is no self love in how I got to be where I am. But most importantly, my size gets in the way of me living the life I want to live. 

I can get on a bike, and go for a ride and push myself, but I’m not going to get very far, and I’m going to be very very tired before I get to the place that I want to go. Which I can do now, but I don’t want to do forever. 

I can go hiking at Enchanted Rock with my friends, and have a blast and scramble up a few boulders, but when the crash pads and climbing shoes come out, I’m going to make it up two holds before my arms can’t hold my body reliably any more. 

I don’t feel comfortable in cute outfits cause I remember how I used to look before my body was one of the many things I let fall by the wayside in the longest period of depression in my life. 

All of these physical issues of course are fixable. I can change my body, I can put in the work, I can watch what I eat and stay active and enjoy myself and my time even if I’m not leaping from obstacle to obstacle with precision and grace like I’m Nathan Drake or Lara Croft. I can do all of this as an act of love to myself where I make myself feel more comfortable in my own skin. 

And I’m documenting it. Because I know there are other people in the same, or at least a similar, place, and perspectives of others helps. Because I know it will keep me a little more accountable. Because I think it’s a neat process and want to have a record of it. 

Also, this is not a Day 1 post. This is something I’ve been working on slowly, a lot of it while still in the thralls of depression and trying to climb out, since January. As of today, November 12th, I’m at 210 pounds, down from 236 at my highest. So you know, now you know. 

[wanderawe]

NaNoWriMo

So, as I’m sure many writing inclined people on the internet already know, today is the beginning of National Novel Writing Month!

It’s been years since I last participated (and won a couple of times), but I’ve been really working to re-develop myself as a writer as life and laziness have made me not-a-writer by virtue of never actually writing. So the same way that I started my writing passion and career 10 years ago with a shiny new NaNo account, I’ve made a new one today, with a new goal for a new novel, all from scratch. 

No more hanging onto old projects I’ve outgrown and lost interested in but feel guilty about. Brand new start, with a new outlook, and a new account.

Check it out if you like. A new account needs new writing buddies. 

(This is also perfectly timed as a witch’s New Years Resolution following Samhain yesterday)

[wanderawe]

Buffalo River Trail - A Story of  a Valiant Attempt

So, I haven't written much about the trip to Arkansas, even though it was a while ago now, and we still had a blast, because I was disappointed.

Just like a new beautiful journal with crisp clean pages, I feel like on this clean and clear blog I need to have something big and beautiful and IMPORTANT to say. I want to post only the best stories and successes because that's what we do online these days- we post the best stuff and pretend that's all there is. But oddly enough, I was having a conversation with a friend where we realized something we missed most about the "old internet" was that it wasn't all successes and prettiness, and clean modern templates around perfect Instagram-ready pictures. It was full of rambling blog posts, emo song lyrics, poorly put together HTML and terrifying random pictures of people doing unspeakable things with jars. It was messy and chaotic and that's what made it so cool.

So that's what I want to do. I want to bring back a little bit of what I nostalgically remember from the "old internet" excitement about things even when I'm not awesome at things, and honestly even when it's not flattering, just because it feels good to be honest like that.

So here's what happened in Arkansas, and why it was by no means a failure of a trip or vacation, but also not a big motivational success story.

We completed day 1, and made it to the landing in Ponca, and about half way to Steel Creek before calling in the troops to come get us.

So, because of super strict work black out periods this year for both myself and Dee, we had a very narrow window to go, which was early June. Really, according to the locals, fall and winter are the best times to go, and spring isn't terrible either if you don't mind some rain. Summer, is really no good because of many reasons, but about the LAST time to even bother is early June, so we just barely were able to make it in.

Before we get into all the reasons we only did the first day (spoiler), let’s talk about some awesome stuff on the trail: 

*Blackberries, everywhere, it was awesome. I am like the blackberry spotting and picking master. I swear I was eating the entire time and it was all beautiful blackberries. My hiking partners were very sick of hearing “ooh! Blackberries!” but I never got sick of saying it. The one picture I took though it not very representative of my haul

*It was gorgeous! Just look at this!

*I had the best time with my dad and partner. Super bonding experience

*Random little bits of magic like: 

What is this? It was up at the very top, at least a mile from anything vehicle accessible. There was no other clutter around it. It looked massive and heavy. How did it get there? Does anyone reading this happen to have any sort of insight into this? Please let me know!

*Ponca, where we hung out and waited for “rescue”, taking off our boots, playing in the water, comparing water filter speeds and drinking Gatorade. It was lovely. 

-One of the reasons for this is heat, but we're from Texas, and it was a good 10-15 degrees cooler on the trail than what we were training in. It was still really hot weather for my dad though, who also is of the old army mentality with heavy pants and boots, that we were only kind of able to trim down when we did the pre-trip shake down on him. We took a good 10 lbs off of his pack and gear, and he was still 7 lbs heavier than Dee or I with things he refused to let go of. It was a heavy load in hot weather.

-Bad Omens right away that played with our heads. This was not a comforting sign, although I’m glad it was there and we saw it. 

-Another reason is one that we did not have a full grasp of what it meant when people talked about "bugs" being an issue. Again, we're from Texas, we deal with mosquitoes all the time. Our clothes and gear were all treated with permethrin, we had bug spray - totally doable. But mosquitoes were not the "bugs" people were talking about.

-The "bugs" were ticks. Lots of them. OMG so many ticks. Every time we stopped I had to take my bag of to get them off of my hips and stomach where they had snuggled in under my hip belt. At one point Dee stopped me to swipe dozens of them off of the backs of my legs as we walked through some brush on an overgrown part of the trail.

-Follow up reason: How incredibly overgrown everything was. It was a good spring this year apparently, and this is not exactly a super popular trial with lots of foot traffic. EVERYTHING was overgrown with grass. EVERYTHING. Twice we lost the trail when it went into a large clearing of hip high grass to twist around, and we had to do some strategic splitting up and shouting at each other when we made it back to the tree line to try and find where the trail was.

-Follow up reason follow up: OMG Arkansas is so beautiful, and so green in the summer. Coming from dry South Texas, it is straight up SEDUCTIVE when you drive in to be surrounded on all sides at all times by so much tall green lushness. But there's a point though, when it's incredibly humid and you're worked up from a steep incline that it almost starts to feel claustrophobic. Then you finish a bunch of steep inclines up about 1000 ft and the view looks exactly the same as it did before you started climbing, and you can't help but lose perspective a little.

There was a point near the end, where over and over and over we would climb, and it would level out, and we would think we were at the top. Then it would go down, and we were thrilled, and then we would make it around that blind curve to find another climb and turn exactly like the one we had just finished. And without any landmarks on the horizon, they all started to look identical. I swear, I was SURE at one point that I had fallen into some crack in the space-time continuum, and was hiking the same mile of trail over and over in a circle and would be for the rest of time.

-Fitness: Dee and I are not stellar examples of in shape. We have a long way to go, and we're getting there by doing things. But we do train, and we do get out and do things of a physical, hiking and biking nature. We're also pretty used to walking around with our packs on. The trail is not incredibly hard, but there are times that you definitely need to stop and take a break before you can finish the thousandth climb of the day. My dad however did not seem to realize until we were on the trail just how much retiring from hunting people every day and training his dog as a K-9 officer and moving to the country side where he feeds some chickens and moves stuff around on his tractor trailer every day has changed his level of physical fitness. He was getting really shakey near the end. He was really self-conscious about it. I tried to exaggerate some huffing and puffing every now and then, and ask for a break when it looked like he needed on, and let me say, it got to my head. Acting tired made me feel even more tired. And there was a point where I crossed into that weird, exhausted, painful, beautiful bliss.

And that's when the group and I diverged a little. If it were just just one of these things, we could all deal. All of them together turned the trip from a fun adventure into a weird survivalist penance for modern day existence and comforts. I did not know this about myself but I DIG IT.

I mean, I love fun adventure too, but it was meditative for me to suffer in such beauty because I have allowed myself to become squishy on modern convenience and cleanliness and bug-free climate controlled indoors. It cleared my mind of all the bull that had left it so clouded in a humid exhausted wave. I was filled with nature and the physical world where walls were made of trees and not cubicle cloth. Money wasn't a concern - I couldn't bribe the ticks off of me. There was no time in the massive green tunnel. This was freedom.

Also, I can’t escape the feeling that this absurdly deep hole went to some place in The Other, and it was a little unnerving to me how curious I was to explore it. The picture does not do justice for what a hole into the void this was. 

Dee and my dad did not have the same experience. They were tired, and hot, and freaked out by the ticks. And wanted to go home. At one point, my dad fell back so that he could go as slow as he needed without feeling bad, and we walked ahead, saw how narrow steep and deadly the trail from Ponca to Steel Creek was, and how sloppy all of us had gotten with out feet, and decided it was best to go back to Ponca, and call my step-mom to come save us. They didn't want weird transcendental nature-penance. They weren't having fun. They wanted a shower and a beer, and I couldn't blame them. Plus it's not like I was going to just say "peace" and walk for two more days alone in the Arkansas wilderness. So, we bailed. We went home and enjoyed junk food and reclining chairs. I discovered I have an allergy to ticks that makes bites super itchy and gross looking (and yes it is just an allergy, I've had it checked, I don't have lyme disease).

But it was the best decision. It was the decision that saved us from hurting ourselves, or ruining our whole vacation and remembering it as misery.

And, I got some really pretty pictures of lots of trees before I started tripping out on green.

I know I’ve already shown this one. I just really liked it. 

[wanderawe]

Training, Planning, and Understanding the Heat Index

There are two important things I want to touch base on, specifically in regards tobackpacking: Training and Planning. Luckily, I also have a story for you today about how I miserably failed at both. But first an intro: You wouldn't go from the couch to a marathon race the next day in brand new shoes without ever having done more than jog from your car to the door in the rain, and you shouldn't hit the trail with a fully loaded pack with nothing more than a couple loops around the dog park. Training helps you to prepare physically (and mentally - let's not undersell it) for your hike. Your body gets to know the feel of the weight of your pack, the shape of your shoes, and moving all of it over hill and dale in conjunction with muscles that may or may not be used to that sort of cardiovascular activity. You could totally be tempted to think that hiking is just walking, and while it's mechanically  similar, there's a lot to be said for a big change of terrain and up to an additional 20% of your body weight strapped to your back (Just sayin',if you weigh 150, your water, food, gear, and everything else plus the weight your pack should be no more than 30 lbs.)

If you want to stay safe, avoid injury, and actually enjoy your hike instead of walking around like you've accidentally picked up too many wooden bowls in Skyrim and are now encumbered, you need to train.

Then it becomes Sophie's Choice- but choosing between axes and gold cups

And planning of course keeps you safe and prepared. While it's not guaranteed you'll die a terrible death if you go in blind, the chances are much much stronger. Enjoy your trip. Don't die. Read about where you're going, scope out your path, check the weather, learn about and conditions or obstacles in your way (such as wildlife - like making sure you have bear bag in bear country so you're not left foodless with a shredded pack.) My partner, Dee, and I have been planning for our upcoming Buffalo River Trail hike for months. We have the right gear, the right food, and have read every article we can find about it - as well as the amazing book

Buffalo River Hiking Trails by Tim Earnst cover to cover.

I seriously love this book.

We even have my dad, who lives in the area, keeping us up to date on weather and bugs, and scoping out the best camp sites along the way.

But you know what I have NOT been doing the way I should? Training. In that past several months I have off and on been doing a 5-mile hike every other week or so, and breaking in my Oboz, and that's about it. I discovered that I like Injinji socks because my pinky toe rubs on the toe next to it, and the carbon fiber trekking poles Dee gave me as a gift make me feel like Spider Man on a decent climb. All of this though is while wearing either a flash pack with a 1 liter nalgene bottle in it - or no pack at all - on a trail that I've done for the last several years and can even jog on because I'm so comfortable with it. So when my partner and I realized how close we were to this 37 miles of Ozark river and mountain, no longer several months away, but just a couple weeks, we kinda panicked a little about training. Cue last Saturday. Friday night, we had decided we would put on our fully loaded Gregory Jade bags (full review coming once they've been battle tested on this trip) head out to Government Canyon State Natural Area, go slow, see some dino tracks, loop around and call it a training hike. We decided to wake up early to beat the heat, cause it had been in the low 90's or so all week. Saturday morning we wake up at 10, I put some ice in our water bladders, we stop by the library... do a couple more things... by the time we get to Government Canyon it is 12:20. And because of a surprise phone call from a long lost voice, we're walking past the Visitor Center at around 1 PM. I even forgot my sunglasses and Dee was kind enough to lend me hers.

Look at that naive excitement

This is what was waiting for us there:

See that bubble in the left? "Feels like 108" And allllllll sorts of warnings that we probably shouldn't be there.

You know how you have certain levels of temperature were you kinda just lose any *real* concept of heat or cold? This is one of those things. South Texas is always hot. And in the summer it is always STUPID HOT. So basically once Memorial Day hits, I my internal thermometer breaks. Anything above 98 is STUPID HOT, and I still have to get things done in places that do not consistently have AC regardless, so pack cold water, a little folding fan that's fun to thwoorp, take breaks, and go anyways.

The extent of our plan was this: get out to the dinosaur tracks, split a backpacker meal as a sort of picnic, decide if we would go further down the trail in direction A, or if because it's STUPID HOT and we haven't been training we're just going to turn back the way we came as direction B.

I also want to take this moment to include - we don't rush, we don't push ourselves harder than necessary out of ego, there are no heroes here. We go as fast as the slowest person in the party, take water and shade breaks frequently and pass no judgement. That's our base level operation. So we're not out here trying to jog mid-day with our 20 lb packs or anything. But that still didn't help us. Here's where we actually made it before serious concern set in.

We had crawled from one cluster of shade to the next, and no amount of ice in our camel backs could help us cool down. We saw on super fit looking guy go out for a jog in a cooling vest and silkies, and about half way out we found him turned around and zombie shuffling his way back. That should have been a flashing, short-shorts wearing sign for our out of shape, pack loaded selves to turn around too. And eventually we did. But by the time we made it back out to the trail head and to our car, Dee was on the verge of heat exhaustion, and I literally laid back on a bench to hold my pack over me and drench myself from my water bladder's hose. It was STUPID HOT, and our complete lack of planning for weather, clothes, and time of day couple with having done NO conditioning work made us the STUPID part of that equation.

At least it's really pretty!

Now, to show that we have learned from our mistakes. There have been two training hikes a week since then, each after work in the late afternoon/early evening, with cold water in packs that are gradually increasing in weight and appropriately sized shoes, and while we won't be breaking any records with our time on the BRT, we're feeling much more prepared. We have also learned that we have ZERO interest in that idea we've been playing with of desert backpacking in Big Bend. Day hikes and car camping in the Chisos exclusively for that corner of the state.  At the time of this posting, I am three days out from hitting the trail in Boxley for the Buffalo River Trail. I am pure excitement. This will be my first multi-night backpacking trip, and trust me, you are going to hear all. about. it.  

[wanderawe]

Environmental Stewardship in 3 Easy Steps

If you’re anything like me, I’m sure you’ve been out on a hike or a walk, or even just in your driveway, and felt the touch of that soup sadness/frustration/anger-at-materialism-and-self-importance when you see some litter or trash rolling around.

Two days ago, I was taking groceries out of my car, and ran down the street in a rage chasing down an empty beer can from one of the three barbecues happening at the top of the hill. It just went rolling by, heading right to the storm drain where it would go on a fantastic voyage of pollution cause someone up the hill couldn’t be bothered to toss it in the blue recycling bin provided to every house on the block. It wasn’t even good beer!

And the thing is, this happens all the time. I can’t think of a single place I’ve been outdoors in the last year when I didn’t see at least one piece of litter. Even at the best maintained parks in town, there is always at least a few dog poop bags abandoned on the side of the trail. Great! You’re still being inconsiderate in leaving your dog’s poop out, but you took the time to package it in a bundle of non-biodegradable plastic first. Thanks. -_-

But you’re not like those people. You’re a cool person who wants to take care of your water and land. You’re someone who wants the world to be a little cleaner and a little nicer. You’re like The Fonz, but with nature stewardship. Damn, you’re cool. And here are some tips to make you even cooler, by going over some basic, nearly effortless ways to be a better caretaker of your public places.

1. Clean Up Your Own Mess: Keep a trash bag with you

No matter how tidy or conscientious you may be, we all end up generating trash, especially when you’re out an about on a busy day. That quick snack from the gas station, the reciept that you’re not actually going to do anything with, the packaging from that impulse buy you had to have. All of these end of floating around your pockets or car floorboard like space debris. And then you kick them out, they fall out while you’re grabbing your cell, a strong gust of wind hits you while you’ve got the car door open and now they’re out and floating in the wild of the parking lot, or the trail, and they’re a little further along in their journey of environmental pollution and destruction.

Just keep a bag with you. Loop it around the center console in your car, keep it in your backpack or purse. Whatever. Just always keep a convenient home for your trash or recycling somewhere you can grab it. Plastic bags from the supermarket are great. You always end up with a thousand no matter how many reusable bags you have, and they’re perfect liners to keep your stuff from getting sticky, and your waste contained.

Just make sure you’re making it easy on yourself to keep things where they belong.

2. Be nice: Clean up after others

You know those bags or containers you keep with you?

Double Duty time. (And considering how often I see dog poop bags just left on the side of a trail – pun intended)

Other people are not as cool and conscientious as you, and it’s a fact of life. But that doesn’t mean their poor impact has to stand. Work on your core, and beautify your space. If you see trash, pick it up.

And take this opportunity to keep working on your awesome self. In Sweden, there’s a full body workout known as “Plogging”: Jogging while picking up trash, or picking up trash while jogging – whichever perspective works best for you. It’s as simple as it sounds, work and that bend and scoop movement and pick up the stuff that’s been left behind.

My dog even get in on the action and lend a hand. The handle of the leash is the perfect place to tie a small bag, keep it at hand height, and carry it all out to the nearest trash can.

3. GET OUTSIDE!

This is the biggest one. Get outside, go to your nearest parks – no matter how big or small. Get their visitor numbers up, post pictures, blog about your visit, generate interest and awareness, and while you’re there take care of the place. Pick up any trash you find, stay on the trails, and be a good example to the people around you.

It seems obvious, but this is really a big obstacle for a lot of people and parks. For instance, where I am in Texas, hunting has seen a major decrease in popularity. And while as a vegan this makes me very happy – it is causing a big issue for our parks and natural areas as visitor levels drop, and the stewardship that hunters provided in keeping areas clean, trails clear, and generally keeping an eye on the area has seen a major decrease.

So how can you make up for it? Keep your wild areas healthy and thriving (and out of the hands of developers, or city planners who think it’s become dangerous or overgrown) and get out there yourself.

It’s wild and it’s beautiful, and it’s yours – but only for as long as you convince whatever powers that be that you want it. Show them you do. Go outside, take care of the land, and take out the trash.

Let the wild things be wild, and bring out something a little wild in you. Just make sure you take your own wild back home with you.