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.