Timpanogos Cave

Sunday, July 29, 2018

BEFORE
I’m writing this in preparation of my hike to Timpanogos Cave today. I feel like this is an important moment for me. For 14 years I lived at the foot of Timpanogos Mountain and for all 14 of those years I lived in fear.

I was afraid that I was too fat to make the strenuous hike to the cave. I was afraid of not being able to make it and thereby proving I was a failure.

I was afraid of getting hurt and thereby proving I was weak.

I was afraid of getting left behind and thereby proving I don’t measure up.

Ironically, I was also afraid – in the instance that someone chose to stay with me at my pace – that I would be holding that person back, thereby proving that my weakness results in the suffering of others.

So I avoided and passed up on every opportunity to make this trek…

…until today.

What has changed?

Well, I have lost about 70 pounds. I am much more active and I move better than I ever have before. While this gives me some confidence that, physically, at the very least, I think I can do this hike, there is still a little bit of fear, because this hike is new, uncertain and I know it will be hard – I just don’t know how hard.

But there is a greater challenge ahead: facing my fears. Doing this hike carries more meaning than simply, “I can do this now because I’ve lost some weight.” This hike means I don’t have to be afraid anymore.

I don’t have to be afraid of being a failure – because I know that sometimes I will fail, but the greatest measure of success is not the amount of success, but in the ability to just keep going – especially when something is hard. (Don’t F*cking Quit, as my trainer has taught me!)

I don’t have to be afraid of getting hurt, because I do get hurt sometimes and being hurt isn’t the same thing as being weak. Getting hurt is a condition, not a reflection of identity. I can get hurt and still be “okay.” I have been hurt, several times, and each time I’ve had a different, visceral, emotional reaction. But also, each time, I adapted or adjusted and eventually, the hurt went away. Being hurt is not being weak, being weak is giving up – and I know now that I’m not weak, because I don’t give up.

I don’t have to be afraid of being left behind. Yes, I will be hiking with people whose abilities far outweigh my own as they are much more active and experienced hikers. And what if they do “leave me behind?” I will remind myself of the futility in comparing myself to others. No matter what I choose to do in life, there will always be someone who is better at it than me. That doesn’t make me a failure and it doesn’t mean I don’t “measure up.” I can get left behind and still recognize that my own abilities have far surpassed what I previously thought was possible for me. That I am truly much more capable than I ever gave myself credit for, as evidenced by the fact that I have chosen to do this hike in the first place!

And what of my final fear? Holding people back, making others suffer? Is it just possible that people may “hold back,” not because they feel obligated to stay with me, but maybe because they actually want to be with me? Maybe they just want to support me. Maybe they just want to encourage me. Maybe it’s not because they feel sorry for me, but maybe it’s because they just want me to know I’m not alone. I can’t determine what’s in the minds and hearts of others, or what their motives might be. But I can stop myself from feeling sorry for myself and I can stop telling myself that my mere existence causes people to suffer. I can choose to believe that I’m not holding anyone back if they are choosing to stay with me. I can let people make their own choices and stop convincing myself that I’m somehow responsible for the actions/feelings of others, because I’m not. 

I have lost weight, and that fat was/is a very real, physical burden. But today I hike to Timp Cave in order to lose a much deeper, and no less real, emotional burden.

Wish me luck!

>>>>>.....<<<<<

AFTER
Well, I’m back – and I did it. I actually hiked to Timpanogos Cave!!

I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it from being too fat. But I wasn’t too fat to make it! Actually, I did even better than I thought I would. We had an hour and a half to make our cave tour time, but we did it in 40 minutes. I was shocked! The trail was as they described, steep and strenuous. But I took it at a decent pace and just kept moving. Only pausing occasionally to catch my breath or see the view. I am not a failure.

I was afraid of getting hurt. Did I get hurt? Nope! I actually felt really good through the whole thing and even when we were done, while I was tired, I wasn’t wasted or worn out. I actually think, if I’d had to, I could’ve gone right back up and done it again! I didn’t have any nagging aches and pains. I was able to move well on the trail and in the cave (there are some tight spots in there!). I am not weak.

I was afraid of getting left behind. I think I pushed myself a little bit at the start because I was afraid of being left behind, but then… it didn’t happen; I didn’t get left behind. Actually, just the opposite – I kept up with or was even ahead of the others at times. What is most important to me, however, is that even though I was pushing myself to maintain a good pace, I wasn’t comparing myself to anyone else. I was just trying to do the best I could do, which entirely removed “measuring up” from the equation, period. It’s good enough just being me.

I was afraid of holding others back. This also turned out to be a “non-issue.” I hiked at the pace I needed to hike and my pace was not a reaction to what anyone else was doing, therefore, I did not interpret anyone else actions (i.e., pacing) as a reaction to what I was doing. We shared the experience, but each experienced it in our own way, and that was a great feeling. I own my feelings and experience without being responsible for the feelings/thoughts/actions of others.

Beyond all of that, experiencing the cave itself made the little explorer boy in me very happy! 

At the cave, they were nice enough to let us catch an earlier tour (Thank you Jay Allen!!) and the cave was amazing! Such unique structures and environment; I could have stayed there for hours. It was so quiet and still. You could feel the moisture in the air and see it clinging to walls and ceilings. At one point they turned out the lights and I can’t recall a blacker darkness. I had to hold the arm of a buddy, because I’m afraid of the dark. I waved my hand in front of my face, but saw nothing. The constant chill in the air; pools of water; ravines that drop down to emptiness; mineral formations that seem out of this world; delicate structures that have survived for hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of years; it was all just so unique and surreal.

And I realized something. A year ago, I would not have been able to do this. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true – I think I could have done it, physically, but it would have been a miserable experience. I would not have had the endurance to keep moving. I would have been much more out of breath. I don’t know that I would have even fit through some of the narrow passages in the cave, quite frankly. And I would have been wasted when it was over. As it was, I not only completed the whole trip, but, as I said before, I probably could have done it again. That is a big, damn deal for me!

Not only did I do this (previously terrifying) hike – I actually enjoyed it! I needed to do it to realize that I had nothing to be afraid of.

It was later, as I was driving back down the canyon, and as I was thinking about the experience, I actually hollered out loud to myself, “woohoo!! You did it, man!! You f*cking did it!!” And that was the moment I realized I didn’t have to be afraid anymore, which caused me to tear up a bit, I’ll be honest. Then I did something I’m not used to doing – I told myself that I did a good job and that I was proud of myself for my accomplishment. As far as I can recall, it was the first time a message like that – coming from myself – carried weight. And maybe the first time I truly believed it.

So today was a good day. It was good for my body; it was good for my mind; it was good for my heart; and it was good for my soul.

For years I resisted fear and it weighed upon me like a boulder. Today, I held that fear in my hands and I gave it a place in my life; I allowed it to be a part of my journey. When I did so, I freed it and it drifted away from me, like a mist evaporating with the sunrise. Truly, a new dawn for me, as well.

Of Stupidity and Carbs

I did something stupid recently.

Have you ever done anything stupid? Like, you knew it was going to be a bad idea, even before you did it, but you did it anyway? Well, that’s what I did. I justified my “bad idea” by calling it an experiment: “If I do this, I’ll just see what happens and I’ll learn from it and it’ll be cool.”

It wasn’t cool.

Not cool, at all.

What did I do that was so stupid? I ate carbs.

Ok, I can almost hear you rolling your eyes at me… BUT, I have to explain why carbs are a stupid idea for me.

I don’t villainize carbs. I don’t think carbs are evil. I love carbs; I want to be carbs… the problem is, I have a chemical reaction to carbs that results in an “altered mental/emotional status.” More accurately, sugar carbs result in panic attacks and starchy carbs result in depression. Put ‘em both together and I get into suicidal territory. Yes, my reaction to carbs is that drastic; I’m not exaggerating here. I’ve tested this over and over and over – and always with the same result. Sometimes the reaction happens within a few hours and sometimes it doesn’t show up for a few days, but it always shows up.

This is just one reason a low-carb diet, like a ketogenic diet, has been so helpful for me, because it all but eliminates my drastic mood swings. Life still has its ups and downs, but I regulate my moods and thoughts SO  much better while eating Ketogenically.

So, for the last seven-eight months I’ve been following a ketogenic diet (carbs under 20-30 grams per day, protein based on lean body mass, and fat to round out my calorie needs). I certainly haven’t been “perfect” with it – I’ve had my moments of “carb-loading,” i.e., binge eating, but this time was different. I had bread or sugar carbs EVERY DAY for a week.

So, so stupid.

For the first 3-4 days I was in heaven – tons ’o carbs and no backlash. I thought, “hey, I’m cured; I can totally have carbs now.” But about day 4 is when the cravings started and the “willpower” began to run out. I know the difference between physical hunger and “emotional” hunger and I was becoming emotionally hungry all the time! One poor decision led to another and I just kept eating more and more carbs… Then the nightmares started; waking up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and sweaty from fear/panic; or rising in the morning with a feeling of dread – that if I got out of bed, something bad was going to happen. Then came the depression. Everything in my life seemed bad, wrong, insufficient, an unsolvable problem, hopeless, helpless, like nothing would ever be okay – like I would never be okay. I became angry and annoyed by the slightest things and somehow, I just couldn’t shake hating myself for all of this. After all, I was the stupid one who ate all the carbs. I knew it was a bad idea, but I did it anyway.

I mean, haven’t I lost 70-ish pounds eating low-carb? Yep, I sure have. So haven’t I “earned” the right to spend a week eating whatever the hell I want? Erm… that’s a tough one. I think the problem with that question is in the idea that I can somehow “earn” bad food. Is that the relationship with food that I want? To be “good” so that I can earn the right to be “bad?” And by bad I just mean throw caution to the wind and fly off the nutritional rails… No, of course not! No one “earns” the right to be bad! It’s probably a bad idea (irony intended) to “moralize” food into “good” or “bad” camps, because – for me, anyway – it's too easy for it to become a reflection of who I am as an individual; i.e., I ate “bad” food, therefore I am a “bad” person.

I keep asking myself why? Why would I do this to myself KNOWING it was a “bad” idea?! I think there must be a lot of reasons. I’ve spent so long fighting cravings that I just wanted to give in. I am so tired of fighting the desire for carbs (i.e., emotional hunger) that I just wanted to lose control and not think about consequences or repercussions. I was angry that I’ve been having such bad neck/shoulder pain that no one seems to be able to resolve and I just got angry at my body for hurting for no reason – and I wanted to punish it; as if I was saying, “hey, if you’re not going to work properly and be in pain for nothing more than just moving, then screw you – I’m going to get fat and lazy and just give up on you.”

Which is sad, now that I see it typed out in black and white. What a poor relationship I seem to have with myself. I’m so ready to hurt myself and punish myself as if that’s all I deserved; it’s almost just a knee-jerk reaction at this point. It’s not healthy; it’s not caring, or kind or compassionate. It’s abusive. How did I learn this? Where did I learn this?

Honestly, I don’t think the answers to those questions even matter right now. What matters is improving that relationship. So I’m going to do some really uncomfortable work here and commit to a couple of things:

1. Forgiveness – Yep, I made a poor decision to eat a bunch of carbs (premeditated or otherwise). Beating myself up for it isn’t going to change that, it isn’t going to “pay” for my dalliance(s), and it isn’t going to prevent me from making poor choices in the future. What it will do is reinforce the erroneous belief that I’m an inherently bad/weak person, deserving of self-abuse and punishment. Forgiveness is not ignoring what I did, or trying to remove/avoid consequences; forgiveness is me admitting I made a bad choice, but knowing that I am not a “bad person” because of it. Forgiveness is saying, “I care enough about you that I don’t want you to repeat that behavior, because I don’t want you to hurt anymore…”

2. Embrace pain. This may sound like it’s coming from left field or you may be wondering how “embracing pain” could help me change these destructive patterns. Well, it’s because pretty much all of my dysfunctional patterns are some form of avoiding pain (physical, mental, emotional, etc.). Pain is an indicator that something is wrong. Because of my trauma’s and learned self-abuse, I interpret “something wrong” to mean that I’ve done something wrong or that I am wrong; that I have somehow caused this pain. So when I feel pain, I blame myself for having done something wrong to cause it. Embracing pain means exposing myself to life and being vulnerable; it means challenging my beliefs about myself and more specifically what I’m worth or what I think I’m capable of. Pain is nature’s way of saying something needs my attention, not an indication that I’ve done something wrong or that I “am” wrong. Pain, while unpleasant to experience, can actually be an ally, and one I probably need to stop “avoiding at all costs.” I can be in pain and still be okay.

Deep down I know my days of making stupid decisions aren’t over. I’m certain I have plenty more to make. But my hope is that I can, at the very least, learn from when I’ve chosen poorly in the past and use that feedback to make wiser decisions in the future – especially when it comes to carbs!