I learnt a valuable lesson a couple of weeks ago as I managed to send myself crashing to the dirt. A Sunday afternoon of off road cycleing turned into a feeble limp to the closest road and a friend of a friend driving me to A&E. The next morning as I phoned up work and made my excuses for not going in, I thought to myself what am I doing.
How have I ended up with one arm hanging in a sling whilst with the other struggles to put on a sock. I began to contemplate the impact a hobby could have, not just on the present moment but how it could reshape your whole future. This fall wasn’t that serious more of a short term inconvenience but it stopped me doing simple tasks. It further delayed my return to climbing but also put cycling on the back burner for a few months.
It lead me to start to weigh up the merits of the slightly more riskier hobbies that I have chosen to pursue. Should I start to be more careful? The answer for me was simple I need the outdoors; I need to explore the outdoors in my own simple way. The frustration was born more from the lack of engagement I was about to experience as I became isolated from the outdoors.
As the body starts to heel the child like adventures start to flood back into my mind. The memories of that Sunday morning fall start to slip away, Ideas of what I can do, and where I can go start to invade my thoughts? I found myself suppressing the urges to head out. I know I need to rest, this is where my challenge and many others is, just allowing yourself time to recover.
During this period of inactivity I found that the normal stresses and strains of life dominated my thoughts. I miss my outdoor life and its soothing meditative benefits.