July 2022. I drop a massive rock on my foot and break a toe. The doctor says recovery will take eight weeks: no running, hiking, biking, yoga, or tennis. As a manic person who mitigates stress via exercise, I’m furious with myself for sabotaging the summer. And the boulder blunder isn’t my first careless self-inflicted injury. Last year, I smashed my head on a low ceiling, causing a concussion and chronic migraines.
Great summer project! Your story also resurfaced a personal memory I'd forgotten. I swam a lot as a kid. My family took camping trips every summer to 8th lake in the Adirondacks. When I was about 10, I became determined to swim the entire length of the lake. At first my parent dismissed the idea. They finally agreed to let me do it, but insisted they follow me with a row boat. Probably a good idea! I remember feeling exhausted but accomplished when all was said and done.
Love this! I thought of a time I volunteered to help with equine therapy for young adults with developmental disabilities. The lesson had ended, and the twenty-year-old, willowy girl I was helping led her very big horse to his stall. He cut a corner and stepped on her toe (in a soft rubber boot) and froze, while she shrieked. I forced him off her foot, but the damage had been done (her toe would heal, but I wasn’t sure about her confidence with a horse), and I couldn’t stop trembling. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever went back. So, I don’t swim, but I admire your courage in crossing the river - literal and metaphorical.
Great summer project! Your story also resurfaced a personal memory I'd forgotten. I swam a lot as a kid. My family took camping trips every summer to 8th lake in the Adirondacks. When I was about 10, I became determined to swim the entire length of the lake. At first my parent dismissed the idea. They finally agreed to let me do it, but insisted they follow me with a row boat. Probably a good idea! I remember feeling exhausted but accomplished when all was said and done.
Love this! I thought of a time I volunteered to help with equine therapy for young adults with developmental disabilities. The lesson had ended, and the twenty-year-old, willowy girl I was helping led her very big horse to his stall. He cut a corner and stepped on her toe (in a soft rubber boot) and froze, while she shrieked. I forced him off her foot, but the damage had been done (her toe would heal, but I wasn’t sure about her confidence with a horse), and I couldn’t stop trembling. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever went back. So, I don’t swim, but I admire your courage in crossing the river - literal and metaphorical.