I’ve been at home for three days since my injury, and it looks like it may be a few more before I feel able to get back on the trail again. Even that’s sketchy: the doctor did not give me a definitive length of recovery (his exact words when I asked were, “If I tell you a week, it’ll be ten days—your body will let you know”), so I’m wrestling with determining when I’m ready. Return too early and I risk further injury; too late, and the trip may be jeopardized. I recognize that the latter is preferable to the former, but it’s still a dilemma. This is complicated by my distrust of my own body. I can’t tell if the pain I’m feeling is the kind I should push through, or the kind I should give way before until it’s gone. Should I stay off it as much as possible, or try to reintegrate some walking as it’s healing? So many questions.
I’ve spent far too much of the past days mulling over options, concerns, fears, ambitions, and plans. Time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions. My wife has suggested that I take it even easier when I’m back on the trail, but this would put me even further behind schedule—and at something like 8-10 miles a day, I’m not certain I could make it between resupply stops. A lot of this is theoretical, and could probably be sorted out on the trail itself, but it makes for exhausting mental gymnastics while I’m laid up.
Meanwhile, I’m eating real food and sleeping in a bed, which were comforts I didn’t appreciate as much before my very brief trail jaunt. I’ll be going through my pack soon to get her cleaned up and try to drop off some gear to lighten the load as much as possible. I’m also trying to discover the best way to wrap an ankle for tendon issues.
The trail beckons once more; now it’s just up to the unstable combination of my body and mind to find the right time to return.
Here are some of photos from my digital camera of those first days to brighten this rather dull post.