The Only Constant is Change
As we age, our bodies remind us we aren’t superhuman. We must adapt.
As we age, our bodies remind us we aren’t superhuman. We must adapt.
Since I left my last full-time position and declared a life of retirement and leisure, I have used the opportunity to go out and explore some of the amazing landscapes of the American West. I have been able to visit some awesome places during a time when most others were unable to get out and travel. Visiting Zion and Arches National Parks in March of twenty-twenty took social distancing to a whole new level for me.
Last year, the world began to open again. We are all, mostly, allowed to unbuckle our seat belts and walk about the world. My wife and I travelled to Germany to enjoy Christmas with our children and grandchildren. We also enjoyed some time on our own in Northern Italy and Southern France.
On returning home I took Liddy, and we headed out into Mt Rainier National Park for what should have been an easy ten-mile hike. Three miles in and I knew I was not going to photograph Ipsup Falls. My knees were complaining. I turned back. By the time we reached the car, my knees were screaming.
My hiking days are done.
What to do. I love the outdoors too much to become a couch potato.
So… my body is changing. It is aging. I can’t hear the beeps, and bops in the kitchen or the birds in the garden. My heart can’t hold a rhythm, and my knees won’t let me carry a pack.
What to do? Put the pack on the back of a bicycle and continue to explore the world. That’s what to do.
I purchased a Brompton folding bicycle. It is so easy to throw into the back of the Prius. I purchased a trailer so that Liddy, my hearing assistance dog, can continue to work for me while being my travelling companion.
My logic is that cycling is not a pursuit that pounds the knees. It is a pursuit that builds stamina. I have noticed a significant improvement in my ability to peddle up hills pulling Liddy. My knees don’t protest near as much as they did on that aborted hike to Ipsup Falls. The few rides where I developed discomfort were likely caused because I was pushing too hard. Pushing too hard on the pedals and on my psyche.
This is an important perspective. It reminds me that I have no need to impress anyone. Especially myself. Being my own master, I can choose where to go, how far to go, and how fast to go.
Instead of retreating in the face of change, I am embracing it and expanding my horizons. In October, Liddy and I will be travelling south along the Rhône River through some of the best wine areas in the world (wish I could still drink the stuff.) My plan is to join the ViaRhôna, the popular EuroVelo 17 cycle route, near Geneva and follow it to the Mediterranean Sea.
Going in October adds some challenges as most campgrounds close at the end of September. Travelling with a dog adds another challenge. De plus, mon francais est tres mediocre (also my French is very poor.)
On the other hand, the tourist throngs should be gone so the trail should be less crowded. The weather should still be good, and the cities and villages will still be photogenic. I trust that cycle touring with Liddy and her trailer will be an icebreaker.
I don’t expect to break any speed records or achieve amazing distances in a day. That’s not the point. The point is just to get out and do it. The point is to embrace the challenges, adapt to change and literally, enjoy the ride. It is exciting. I am excited. Change is good.
The world is a beautiful place. Share the beauty. Leave only footsteps.