Archive for the ‘Courage’ Category

Trees don’t get scared…

Monday, March 8th, 2010

Perhaps I should remember certain facts more often… One thing that I know but don’t bother to think about very often is that trees don’t get scared. Not even if you ride directly at them on a mountain bike. Not even if you yell at them. At least, they don’t get scared enough to move out of the way.

Trees probably don’t get scared because they KNOW that you won’t really damage them if you do hit them. In fact, they’re pretty sure that you’ll walk away the loser. And, you know something, THEY’RE RIGHT! Running into a tree hurts!

How did this come to mind this week? Well, you see, it all started when I couldn’t find my biking gloves – something which actually happened months ago, and I stopped riding with hand protection. But, yesterday, out riding with a friend, I managed to get a briar vine running through my fingers (ring and middle) as I was riding. And it was doing a pretty painful thing to my hand. So, my attention was pretty well diverted.

And so was my direction. To the other side of the trail and a bit beyond… and there was the tree.

It didn’t move.

My brakes didn’t stop me fast.

I screamed at the tree.

It still didn’t move.

My brakes still didn’t slow me fast enough.

Lessons learned?

1. Protect yourself. My head was fine. I had a helmet (never ride without one, road or trail!). But my arm is scraped, my wrist is jammed, and of course, there’s a nasty tear between 2 fingers. If I’d had gloves, or even mentioned it to my friend and she’d lent me a pair, this wouldn’t have happened.

2. Pay attention. Don’t be distracted by small discomforts. Especially when bigger, nastier dangers lurk.

3. Trees don’t move. Rocks are gonna be there. The planet doesn’t care. Adventure sports can be a blast. But sometimes, you come out on the short end. Be ready for it. Anticipate it, but don’t fear it. Minimize the damage and move on. I rode for another half hour, then went running on those same trails for another hour. Had a blast. Feel a bit stiff and sore this morning, so I’m going golfing.

Stay safe out there!

Courage in Action!

Monday, November 30th, 2009

Sometime around April, I met Nicky, when she joined one of my beginning running classes. This fall, Nicky decided to run the Callaway Gardens 10k and started training with me for the race. She was doing great, running almost 6 miles when “it” happened. The unexpected injury. Out of the blue. While running. A muscle tear. 3 weeks before the race. We talked via email and Facebook and the news felt grim. Nicky sucked it up. And did what the doctor told her.

AND, when the doctor told her a week before the race she could run, she opted to go. We talked before and she agreed to take it easy. And she went. And ran. The whole thing. And finished. Slow, and one step at a time, she did it.

Did that make a difference in the next part of the story? I don’t know. I believe that success breeds success; that we learn to succeed. I also believe that the more courage we find in ourselves, the more we have in there to find.

She got an invitation to go mountain biking with friends. She called me up to take her riding BEFORE so she could learn the basics. After an intro to the basics, we rode the first mile and I could see her growing skill and confidence.

Then, we headed over try one of the bridges. They are a bit tricky and I wanted her to try them in a controlled setting, rather than with a group of experienced friends. I showed her once and then walked down to coach her. After a couple of successful attempts, we both started relaxing. Of course, that’s when everything went wrong.

The next time across she slipped out towards the edge of the bridge and all I could do was watch as she came off the bridge, hit the bank of the stream and went over her handlebars. It was clear that this was not a good thing. Minutes passed as we dealt with the aftermath, with Nicky’s foggy memory of what happened and with the physical realities of her fall.

But here’s where Nicky shines! I could only talk her into promising that she’d go to the doctor or ER if the fog didn’t lift. After checking the basics, we walked our bikes out to the road. And then, she really surprised me. She insisted on riding back to the cars, and then to trying just a bit of gentle off-road riding. Then, she insisted that she was ready for another lesson in just a couple of weeks!

While I don’t recommend by-passing the doctor (and Nicky has been to see the doctor and is again following the doctor’s instructions!), I am in awe of Nicky’s courage and grace. What could have been a disastrous crash, she turned into an adventure and a learning experience. What could have turned her off forever, she turned into a gateway. Her last words to me as I left her with her family were “I was having fun right up to that point. And I’m looking forward to going riding again. Promise we’ll go?”

Find your courage! Dare to try! Follow Nicky’s lead!

Good Lord willing…

Monday, September 21st, 2009

If you’re a kayaker, it’s never “and the creeks don’t rise.” Even if the rivers are TOO high, we know they’ll be coming back down soon. And coming back down means that sooner or later, we won’t be able to play anymore.

Yesterday, four of us got a chance to run a river that rarely runs in the summer. It runs frequently in the winter and the spring, and I got to spend several wonderful days (see “Girl’s Day Out” blog post!) there. I am always mindful of the days on this river, because I had just fallen in love with it, when the two year drought meant that I didn’t get to run it for those 2 years. So, I’m always aware that this run may be my last for a while.

I didn’t even promise myself this one. I hoped, but didn’t KNOW until Sunday morning when I saw the gauges were falling, but from a level that I knew would hold till at least afternoon.

This time, my companions were 3 women, two new to the Locust. One of these wanted to borrow and try one of my boats. She’s just reaching the level where the Locust is an option. The other is an experienced kayaker who just has never done this particular river. The third is a kayaking friend who never believes that she has the skills to run hard stuff, but has one of the most accomplished set of skills I know.

The water turned out to be very muddy, but at a marvelously fun level! However, it’s amazing how storm water can make a rapid look intimidating. Even though I’ve run Powell’s Falls a dozen times, it LOOKED big and fierce and ugly. Here’s what we saw!

After looking at it, the others opted out. No problem, rapids are something that you decide to run, or decide to not run. You’re alone in your boat and you make the move or miss it, so it’s always your decision. (There are rapids where you have no choice but to go through, but that’s another blog!)

Of course, as this clip shows, it was no big deal… much nastier looking than running!

But, this morning, we’re looking at a lot of stuff that’s way over flood stage. And more rain in the forecast… and that means, no excuse for avoiding work. And my work includes writing this blog. So, now that this is done, it’s time to run (not a river, on foot – can I get a trail run in before it rains again?)

Snakes, Planes and Fear

Wednesday, July 29th, 2009

I have often talked about the value of challenge and doing “the thing you think you cannot do.” I truly believe that to learn how strong we are, to discover how much we can accomplish, we would be wise to attempt the things we fear. Whether the challenge comes from inside ourselves or are posed by another, by meeting the challenges we take on willingly, by controlling our fear, we grow in strength and commitment.

When I talk about this to clients, groups and friends, I explain that I have tried many adventure sports and I really still fear 2 things – snakes and jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.

So, Sunday, I stepped aboard a perfectly good airplane, accompanied by two “tandem jump pilots” and my son, Jamie. Each jump pilot had a well packed parachute, a tandem harness and my son and I had cameras and a harness on me.

As we waited for our turn at a very busy drop zone, clouds had rolled in and the air had freshened. It was clear that a storm was on the way. What amazed me is that as I sat there, I became less anxious about jumping than I was about NOT jumping. You see, this was the last chance for a while that I would have to do this first jump with my son. I had become eager to face this challenge.

Finally, it was our turn. We had been hustled into our jumpsuits, and our “pilots” barely hestitated a step as they checked our harnesses and hurried us into the planes. We knew by their actions that there was only a short window to get our jump in, but their movements were sure and confident. Sandy, the plane pilot, launched us quickly skyward.

As we sat in the back of the plane, I filmed the takeoff out of the windows. Rick, my jump pilot, joked with Jamie and me, and Tom, Jamie’s pilot, showed how relaxed he was by taking a nap. I watched the altimeter on Rick’s wrist as it crept slowly towards 6,000 feet. Long before the preferred 10,000 feet, Sandy told Rick and Tom that she was turning to line up, that we went now or not at all.

Jamie and Tom were closest to the door and got ready first. A few short seconds later, they were gone and it was my turn. I watched almost outside of myself as I reached for the step. My foot was out of the plane. I waited for the “GO” from Rick and we pushed off simultaneously from the door. I was falling and trying to get into the right position. Arched out, we fell for a few brief seconds, feeling the mist of rain on our faces.

I remembered to look around and hold the camera where it could record the experience. Then Rick pulled the cord and the canopy opened over us and freefall was over. Rick was slightly apologetic as he told me we were going to spiral down quickly and immediately, I could watch the world spin below me as he spilled air and we descended quickly.

I was able to catch glimpses of Jamie above me, as we descended faster than him and Tom. Soon we were hanging over the runway of the airport, and I could hear the urgency in Rick’s voice as he tried to keep us from being blown into the treeline on the far side of the runway. The updraft kept us from descending quickly and I understood we needed to make it down before being blown into the trees.

Finally, we were just off the ground. I lifted my feet, and tried to straighten up, but fell as we landed. Rick, bound to me by the harness, fell, too. A moment later, he had released us and we were up, me, in total glee, him, wanting to gather up the parachute and get inside quickly.

As we rode in the back of the truck the short distance to the hanger, Rick and Tom discussed the jump and both agreed it was one they’d rather NOT have made. I was glad we’d jumped, relieved that we made it ok, and delighted that our pilots were as skilled as they were.

The only sad note for the afternoon is that my guy, Jesse, had decided, on the spur of the moment, to jump himself. He was in a harness and jumpsuit when we reached the hanger. Due to the weather, he didn’t get to make his jump.

Oh, well, I guess I’ll just have to jump again some week soon when I go back to Louisiana.

Hey, look at that…. fear has turned to joy, inaction to achievement! Hmmm….