TRAINING

Have you ever had the experience where you know: “Rise to challenges that life gifts to us…Otherwise you will lose ground”?

Marianne Williamson had a wonderful quote: “The planet will not make it if women stay girls.”

It is with that wonderful invitation that we began to train…

Although some years ago now, moments of it feel like yesterday.

***

Over breakfast, Robyn Benincasa, the Founder of Project Athena, says to me, “We’re trekking in the Grand Canyon, rim-to-rim-to-rim; it’ll be 44 miles in two days. The first day will be 24 miles in a day; it’ll be gnarly. You want to come?”

I look at her over my plate of eggs benedict. “But you all have been training, right?”
They will be departing in two weeks.

“Yeah,” she says and looks me square in the eye. “But you can do it.”

We have just met, yet something about her conviction convinces me that I can.

***

I read on web sites that night the rim-to-rim is one of “America’s 10 Most Dangerous Hikes.” Two hundred people have been rescued out of the Canyon in a single year; many have died there. A Grand Canyon hiking site states, “DO NOT attempt to do a rim-to-rim hike in a single day.” Robyn’s group would, then hike it again the next day. In a fit of madness, I agree to join them. My mother would have a batch of kittens.

***

Caleb also is not sure he’s in Kansas anymore. Or that he likes where this adventure has taken him. For months his mom has been driving around the country, meeting inspiring people, while he lies around getting his belly rubbed. Now she wants them to take monumental treks to train?

First, we’ll need a nap.

Fearless Leader

 

Fearless Napper

Our first hike, in California, is not promising. Caleb protests the prospect of summiting a ridge a second time. I sigh with relief. We could just go get a latte and a bone. I could always tell Robyn I couldn’t go. I do have a full travel plan and little time to train.

For our next training effort, I have decided we will hike ten miles. I have my “Greens to Go,” energy bars, hat on, sunglasses, sun block, backpack loaded, water bottles filled, and extra water and food stashed for both of us. We reach 1/4 mile down the road and I smell the most delectable scents wafting from a bakery across the street. So I stop and buy an apple tart. At least I get it to go…

The day after hiking for three hours, I feel tired. How will I ever manage 12 hours?
I am having serious doubts.

I drop to the floor of the motel room where we’re sleeping for the night. Like a butterfly lifting weights, I start doing push-ups. I’ve only been able to do ten full push-ups in one session. I tell myself, if I can do 40 today, I can also make this trek in the Grand Canyon.

Caleb watches me from the bed.
I do my first set of ten.
Breathe. Stretch.
The next set.
Curl into child’s pose.
The next ten; now up to 30.
After struggling, efforting, I make it to 40, flop on the floor, and resume child’s pose.
I begin to breathe deeply.
Caleb quickly jumps off the bed, onto the floor, and showers my face with kisses.

I realize that, to succeed on this journey, I will need to apply all that I have learned during these three springs on the road. I will need to be impeccable with my mind and body. The moment I have a thought that does not support me, I will replace it with one that strengthens me. I will have to follow a strict “in-Spirit” diet and will probably discover my soft spots along the way.

 

Exhausted from Training…

Summiting Wyoming’s Jackson Peak for the second time that day, I stumble and think, Great way to hurt myself. Running, I almost twist my ankle, and think the same. Both times, though, I quickly tell myself, No. I’m perfectly fine – and I will be in the Canyon.

When other challenges begin – real physical ailments – I wonder if these are signs that I should not go.

No, I decide. These are chances to know that I can suffer and still be OK: being with these women in the Grand Canyon, I hope, may help to imprint this on me forever.

I remember Robyn telling me her friends did not complain when they were ill. They were too busy living the purpose they had found. As one of her friends said, “I don’t have time to die. I have too much shit to do!”

Still serving while suffering would become a new standard for me; a touchstone, especially if I started to waver. Though now I know, doing this trek for myself is not enough. I want to be strong enough to help others, for anyone who might need me along the way.

Need a Nap, Jackson Peak, 10,715 feet

Hiking now 11-15 miles a day, by the time Caleb and I reach Utah, old ailments have re-surfaced, including a childhood baseball injury that enflames my knee and limits my walk, and a respiratory illness that once was monthly: reminders of late nights, of smoky bars, of younger days.

I know these are tracks of the old way. The old way led me to give up when I felt these pains. I feel myself this morning being pulled onto this old track. My lungs are failing me four days before our descent into the Canyon. Can I do it? Should I do it? Will they need to Med-Evac me out?

I could seek the comfort of my home, another mission almost accomplished.

I think, isn’t it amazing our old stuff that comes up when we are trying to get after something? I wonder how many choices I have made based on fear or discomfort with the unfamiliar. In some way, do I fear this chance because I haven’t honed the character muscles that make it appealingto take on these challenges? If I don’t take them on, I know at some point I will slide the other way. “Rise to challenges that life gifts to us,” a voice whispers to me. “Otherwise you will lose ground.”

I look at “Captain Chaos,” Caleb, a couch potato who suddenly seems to have become my coach. How would my coach feel about this? He had put in all of those long, dusty miles with me: panting, digging at heated ground, seeking shade, cool, to regulate his body temperature, “pulling,” like a sled dog, as we neared each hike’s destination.
Then beginning again.

“Coach” hasn’t come this far for me to quit. I haven’t either.

Gone to Dog Beach

***

How can we challenge our limits, grow stronger, and share our new resolve with others?

What does that look like for you?

When I took this journey across America, I keyed my practice of living completely “in-Spirit” by being present and seeking to share that resolve with others.

I asked, If there were only one quality for living in-Spirit, what would it be? It was being fully present for me. From presence other qualities of living in-Spirit, Connected, would flow: compassion, love, kindness, not taking myself too seriously.  Anytime I would feel myself moving from presence, I’d consult my inner map. Am I headed in the right direction generally? Am I out hiking but thinking about work?

You may relate to this, too: It is much easier to stay present when I know, overall, what I’m supposed to be doing with my day, week, month, year. Then I can sink easily and fully into now: watch my dog run beside me, mouth open, tongue dangling, ears flapping, glancing back at me occasionally, music playing on my phone, looking at the configuration of trees against a deep blue sky, dusted with clouds. As I run in the cool morning air, I feel a growing strength and unparalleled peace.

What about you? What’s one tool you use to help challenge your limits and grow stronger?

Thanks for being here!

With love,

Jillian

***

Jillian Robinson Weaver is an Emmy-winning TV Producer, Author/Photographer, and Coach, whose passion is to help people live their Highest Self. Come join her Instagram “Coffee Conversations” to begin! https://www.instagram.com/jillianrobinsonweaver/