Alive, again
When I first received my undiagnosis, the two thoughts that immediately popped up were:
I can train for the marathon now (but it’s in six weeks)!!
and
I can move to Australia (oh shit I’ve gotta start planning)!!
Post undiagnosis, my primarily focus — at least on the exercise and movement front — was running again both to participate in upcoming races (the New York City marathon and the annual Changsgiving Trinity Turkey Trot) and to reacquaint myself with an activity I love dearly.
It wasn’t until I was halfway up Bishop and Clerk when I realized that this was my first time hiking — actually hiking — since being undiagnosed. I’d “hiked” while in Grenoble, but that was less of a hike and more of a frustrating walk of tears and fears as I was still moving under the (mis)guidance of keeping my heart rate at under 100bpm.
While in Tasmania with Satori, Kazu, and his parents, we took a ferry over to Maria Island. Bishop and Clerk is one of Maria Island’s most challenging hikes so of course I was going to do it because I can f-cking move my body however I want now!*
It was so freaking exhilarating to hike normally again — to hike at my regular speed and feel the breeze against my face, to feel my healthy heart pump oxygenated blood throughout my body, to feel the endorphins rush through me as I climbed onwards and upwards. I got a little teary as I continued the hike; I was filled with awe and gratitude and wonder to be experiencing all of this again after believing I would never move my body freely again.
The best part was the rush that came from climbing tricky bits that required grasping at thin crevasses to pull myself to the next ledge or taking a (literal) leap of faith to reach the ledge overlooking the sea. It was scary and thrilling, breath-taking and electrifying — it was being alive, again.
*Kind of. There’s some complexity and nuance to this, as with most genetic diseases.
