Several years ago I took a road trip from California back to Idabel, Oklahoma. On the way, I stopped at several national parks to enjoy the scenic and often majestic beauty between here and there. What I expected was breathtaking vistas, long walks and time to be with myself. What I didn't count on was that years later, I would realize that it was a character building experience. Nor did I anticipate drawing up on that experience to formulate a plan for reaching my current goals.
On the way to Oklahoma, I stopped at Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. In the morning, I took the Park Avenue trail noted as the most popular hike in the park due to its ease and scenery. Later in the morning, I took a trail that overlooked the Delicate Arch. While viewing the arch from a distance, I saw people walking around the arch and thought--that is where I want to be. I jumped in my car in search of the Delicate Arch trail. Finding the trail head, I grabbed a bottle of water and began the rather daunting steep grade on the first leg--UP pretty much describes it. Heat was a concern since the August the temps were topping out near 100F. But my constitution is pretty hearty so I embraced the challenge--for all of about 10 minutes. Looking up, the top seemed ever further away rather than closer with each step. My water bottle was already nearing empty and I wasn't event a tenth of the way. About half way up the first leg, I noticed a family with a little girl. She was having the visible melt down I was suppressing. As I neared them, I had an idea, I would try to distract her to make the trail easier for her. I introduced
myself and I told her that I thought the trail was pretty hard, too. Then I picked up a rock and tossed it and asked her if we could just go to that rock together. Drying her tears, she said that she thought she could. Once we got there I asked her to throw the rock, she did and together with her family we walked up to retrieve the rock for the next throw. And that was how we made it to the top of the incline. At that point I walked on ahead of them knowing full well that the little girl helped me to the top as much as I helped her. I was hurting pretty bad myself but would never have played the rock game with myself--I am an adult after all. I know that by breaking up an ardous task into managable easier ones is not only the best way, but perhaps the only way to meet a challenging goal.
On the way back to California, I stopped at the Grand Canyon. This marked my third time to the Grand Canyon--it was fairly late in the morning when I stopped, so I had every intention of just observing and not doing. During my check in phone call, I told my mom I won't be doing any hiking today, I'm just going to enjoy the vistas. Yeah, right, famous last words. I arrived at the Bright Angel Hotel and walked down to the trail head. I was such a beautiful morning, I decided, well, I can just go down to the first station--only a mile and half down and then come back up--I had time to do that. Once at the first station, I had so much energy and was feeling so good, that I decided to go to the next station. And once there with energy now in reserve, Indian Garden seemed like a good idea. I reasoned, if I made it to Indian Garden I should just complete the hike down the Plateau Point. So I did. Once down at the Plateau Point, I had one of the power bars I packed. But the chocolate in the power bar exploded in my stomach. Oh, no! Not good. Not good at all. In fact very very bad. I had 6 miles uphill to make it back with a rather dodgy stomach.
As I started back, each step was a little bit more difficult than the last. Stomach roiling, I was headed toward being a statistic--250 people are rescued from the Grand Canyon each year.
Fortunately, I am or at least was--hope to be once again--a marathon runner. I had 4 marathons under my belt and I knew my best asset was believing--not just believing but knowing--that I could finish the hike. My biggest challenge would be harnessing the 6 inches between my ears.
All the hiking I had done in the previous weeks had gone a long way to hardening and preparing me for the challenge I now faced. Resolutely, I set on the trail up. I only needed to focus on making it to the next switch back. My mantra--the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. At the end of about 3 hours, I was so sick of the mantra but I couldn't shut it off. The only way to--oh shut up--eat an elephant--seriously shut up--is one--enough already--bite at a time--OK, now stop--the only....geez louize...
On the trail, a couple of people shared their Gatoraide with me which helped the electrolyte imbalance I was clearly experiencing. Someone else also shared a couple of Doritos as well--sodium always good. Gradually the sun began to set and I was still on the trail. I began to run through various scenarios and how to handle them. Safety a priority, I formulated the worst case solution--sit my butt down and wait for daylight. But the full moon kept the trail illuminated and I noticed people with head lamps behind me--worse case tucked away for a future use.
About 15 minutes to the top, my thighs began to cramp, both thankful that it waited until nearing the end to cramp and exasperated that it didn't wait 15 more minutes, I limped my way out of the canyon. At 8:45, I commemorated the end of the adventure with the emptying of what remained in my stomach on a median. Back at the car, I was in no state to drive the 30 miles out of the park to my hotel. My priority became finding a key mix of fat, salt, sugar, protein and potassium to replentish my system. I nixed the idea of the hotel bar and restaurant--one too noisy the other too long of a wait--and really I was in no state to be among civilized humans despite the assurances the hostess gave me. In the end, I stopped at the convenient store. Walking around, I let my body guide my brain for advice. I checked out with ice cream, chips, a Dr. Pepper and a banana. Not exactly a nutritious dinner but balanced enough to triage the situation. I consumed the first 3 in the parking lot and was immediately perked up enough for the drive to the hotel. The banana was forgotten until I fell out of bed later that night with massive cramps.
This past week, I have been pondering the valuable lessons, I learned on this unforgettable vacation.
1. Throw a mental stone when trying to meet goals. Once my goal is fully articulated and the steps are divided into manageable stone throws, I can mentally toss the stone and then walk to it. I tried it out the other day and I was surprised at how gratifying it is to mentally toss a stone and see it land where I want to be. The key here is to exercise this visualization tool until it is automatic.
2. Enlist others to help you on the road to success. Studies have shown working with others with similar goals helps in keeping the goal seekers focused. You can be the mentor, mentee, or both.
3. Believe in Success. We all have tremendous strength in reserve. I completed a challenging 12 mile hike on the spur of the moment--a hike that over 250 people have to be rescued from each year. The main reason I was successful was because I didn't let myself think that I wouldn't be.
4. Strategize and find solutions for various scenarios--worst case and blue sky. My friends call me Worst Case Scenario Girl because I have survived a flash flood--we broke a window to get out, a tornado--head between knees in a walk in refrigerator, and a major typhoon--this one my experience was more comedy than tragedy. I hope for the best and plan for the worst.
5. Know thy self. It is important to be realistic about both strengths and weaknesses. In this case, I knew that it was a stretch opportunity that I could achieve.
6. Foster a sense of adventure. View the goal as a journey rather than a target. By turning the focus on the process rather than the outcome, setbacks are opportunities for growth rather than failures.