between chiang mai and chiang rai
walking through the jungle today turned out to be rewarding for unexpected reasons. the jungle itself wasn't spectacular. the waterfalls were minor. and the guide had a penchant for fiction.
but i did discover that i had legs.
i'm not much of a hiker. the two hikes in my history were less than three hours long, cumulatively. in nepal this is an embarrassing admission. am i allowed to love nepal as i do, without having climbed the annapurna circuit or everest? sometimes i think not. but i just know that i would be miserable hauling myself up a constant incline in the biting cold.
but today, accidentally, i found myself on a hike the extent of which evidently fell out of the description given to me in the booking office. i did know we would be walking a lot. i just didn't know it would all be uphill.
monsoon season is just now fading. water still trickles through everything, and mud gushes everywhere. the paths are not really paths, and a slip would send me either hurtling down a ravine, or splayed across sharp, wet rocks.
i loved it. the first 30 minutes involved a lot of heaving and failed attempts at mind over matter. but by the second hour i realized that i hadn't thought about my legs in a long time.
instead, i had been enjoying them. i loved my legs. strong, reliable, they carried me between bamboo umbrellas and kept steady over running rapids. they filled themselves with air as i bound uphill, and with lead as i carefully descended, counting equally on luck and strategy with each step.
i have legs.
by hour three i understood this. i became really aware of them. i felt closer to them. appreciation for them. i wanted to use them. more. i wanted to pay them back for carrying me.
i wanted to live in a way that acknowledged that i have legs. i never wanted to forget them again.
annapurna next week? maybe.
but i did discover that i had legs.
i'm not much of a hiker. the two hikes in my history were less than three hours long, cumulatively. in nepal this is an embarrassing admission. am i allowed to love nepal as i do, without having climbed the annapurna circuit or everest? sometimes i think not. but i just know that i would be miserable hauling myself up a constant incline in the biting cold.
but today, accidentally, i found myself on a hike the extent of which evidently fell out of the description given to me in the booking office. i did know we would be walking a lot. i just didn't know it would all be uphill.
monsoon season is just now fading. water still trickles through everything, and mud gushes everywhere. the paths are not really paths, and a slip would send me either hurtling down a ravine, or splayed across sharp, wet rocks.
i loved it. the first 30 minutes involved a lot of heaving and failed attempts at mind over matter. but by the second hour i realized that i hadn't thought about my legs in a long time.
instead, i had been enjoying them. i loved my legs. strong, reliable, they carried me between bamboo umbrellas and kept steady over running rapids. they filled themselves with air as i bound uphill, and with lead as i carefully descended, counting equally on luck and strategy with each step.
i have legs.
by hour three i understood this. i became really aware of them. i felt closer to them. appreciation for them. i wanted to use them. more. i wanted to pay them back for carrying me.
i wanted to live in a way that acknowledged that i have legs. i never wanted to forget them again.
annapurna next week? maybe.
this picture actually has nothing to do with this post. it isn't even in thailand. it's nepal, at the foot of a bungee jump close to where i camped. i just didn't have my camera with me on this thailand trek, and so have no photos to bring it to life. let's just say that this is what i had hoped to see in northern thailand... but didn't.
1 comment:
beautiful. i can feel you, and i believe i know what you mean.
It is an exhilarating experience to find out that in a moment you have given in, or given up, and are totally relying on your legs, which for their part, turn out to be resilient beyond our expectations.
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