I went to bed last night with plans to kick this depressed funk in the behind and get up early to run Farmington Canyon solo. I needed mountains, and I needed them anyway I could get them, stat.
My plans began to unravel around 2:00 am when my 4 year old darling daughter awoke screaming and sobbing. I knew before I made it off the bed what the problem was. Her heartbreaking sobs in the middle of the night are not new. Thankfully it only happens a couple of times a month at most. When she was 3, the front of her ankle was sliced open by a shattered porcelain doll. We got it stitched up and it healed with just a faint scar, but every once in a while she has horrible nerve pain. I snuggled her close and massaged Deep Blue Rub and Frankincense essential oil into her ankle, foot and leg. Half an hour later, her breathing had calmed and I left her sleepy side to slip back into bed beside Aaron. Once usually does it. She should sleep through the rest of the night. I left my alarm on. Maybe I could still manage an early morning.
4:00 am. The screaming began again. It doesn't usually come back so soon. I hurried to her side and repeated the ritual. Shushing, kissing, calming, holding tight. Then lotions, oils, massage. They weren't as soothing to her as they usually are. I carried her back up to bed with me, hoping that my presence would be calming enough to let us both sleep. She slept restlessly, tossing and turning. I hoped that Aaron was at least sleeping through all of this.
5:00 am. Her pain was more palpable from less than a foot away. She pushed me away as she simultaneously clung to me and cried. I went through the ritual once again and when she could breathe again, I asked if she wanted to be in her own bed. She did. I carried her down the stairs, leaning precariously against the wall to keep from tumbling drowsily down. She snuggled into her pillow. I climbed back into my own bed, reached over, and turned off the alarm. I needed the sleep.
I woke late and faced the morning determined to be without regret. I would get done what I could and let it go to try again tomorrow. As the day progressed through cooking and cleaning and laundry, my mood took a nosedive. I had an epiphany. Not a particularly new one. This past month I have forgotten to be important. I am important. I need to treat myself that way. I need tune-ups and rest days and me time, to revel in the things that make my heart sing. No one has prioritized me lately. Not even me. I was tempted to feel outward resentment, but my logical brain argued that if I wasn't prioritizing me, then how could I expect anyone else to? I make so much sense sometimes. Bother. So I changed over the laundry again and laced up my trail shoes. I put my twelve year old in charge and headed for the canyon under the noonday sun. I wouldn't have the time or cool of morning I would have had earlier, but I knew what I needed and I set out to get it. Single track, dirt, greenery, wildflowers, vertical climb, stream crossings, waterfalls, squirrels and lizards, blue sky and cicadas. And the long downhill cruise. I could feel my brain sigh with pleasure each time I stopped to take in the view. I never get sick of that.
1,266 ft vert
12:34 average pace