A Solo Hike

Yesterday was my first, dietitian approved, solo hike.  I can't explain how hard I worked, relentlessly asking and always being told "not this week."  It's discouraging to put in work, week after week, and to always be told no to the things that are important to you.  I knew I wasn't ready the many many times I was asking before.  I wasn't even sure I was ready this time.  I tried it once without permission.  It went terribly wrong.  I picked a 6 mile out and back that was completely up hill on the out and completely downhill on the back (if any of you are familiar with Looking Glass Rock, you'll know what I mean).  I practically ran the downhill.  Only stopped once on the up.  I completed the hike in 2.5 hours and I felt incredibly accomplished.  That is, my eating disorder felt accomplished.  Meaning, Leah had failed.  Miserably.  

This time was much different.  I planned my day.  I chose a gentle, 3 mile hike.  I set an intention to walk slower than I thought was necessary because even if it was okay to keep a quick pace that didn't mean I had to.  I chose to notice things along the way and really take in my surroundings.  I stopped a lot along the way to view different parts of the river, little mini falls.  There was one small climb at the end which I took slowly and never got short of breath.  And then I was rewarded with the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.  It was definitely something from a fairy tale.  And I knew that the universe was saying "well done."  

Then there was a choice to be made.  There was an extension.  An exciting adventure extension that definitely was not an approved level of movement.  It was a rock climb straight up to the top of this beautiful fall.  It included ropes and ladders and all sorts of cool things that make my little kid self get overly excited.  I was more than tempted.  I stared at it for a long time.  A very long time.  I can't explain how much it hurt this large part of me that is consumed so much by an eating disorder that it has just become the eating disorder to say "no, you can do that another day.  This isn't the last time you'll ever go on a hike.  We're going home."  I felt sad, initially, walking away from this awesome adventure.  But the more distance I created, the more I began to take pride in my self-control.  I have a really good friend that I call for help in situations like this.  I don't have cell service in the woods, so I just asked myself what she would say.  COSA would have kept reminding me that, because I'm nourishing my body and caring for myself, I'm more certain that tomorrow is a day I'll be gifted with, as is next week and next month.  I'll have plenty of time to take plenty of adventures.  And it would probably be more fun to share that adventure with someone that I care about.  Today, I'm caring for my body.  That means picnics at waterfalls and gentle hikes with my dog.  But my adventure wasn't any less of an adventure just because I chose to stick to the guidelines I was given.  That made me strong and brave.  I imagined COSA then making a few funny jokes or some puns because she's the greatest for those and then she would have changed the topic because she would want me to get out of my head.  So, that's exactly what I did.

When you're faced with a choice that you have to make all by yourself and no one is around to know whether or not you made the right decision - that's probably the hardest time to do the right thing.  Walking away from something you really want that you know is wrong for you and you know that no one would know about takes a lot of courage.  I can stand on the other side of this experience and say that mustering up the courage is really freaking worth it.  The feeling you get later when you get to share with your friends and family that you stuck to your values and you did the right thing, it's lovely.  The feeling you have in your soul that you know you overcame your own demons and you were in control for a day, that's priceless.

I'm really proud of how well yesterday went.  I'm grateful to all of the supports who've helped me get to this point in my recovery.  I'm looking forward to more mindful woodland adventures.  I know that I won't be perfect every time and that there's always room for improvement, but taking each day, one at a time keeps me focused on being able to conquer that challenge.