The Wormlips Scrapbook

TEST #3

The situation: Immediately following today’s face-hair-ripping appointment I met up with my acupuncturist, her hubby and Seamus their hound. Cheryl had told me they’re exceptionally fit (the hound possibly less so), which made me a little anxious. I hate holding people up. But part of me thought, “Come on … how fast can they really be?”

Man, are these guys in good shape. Man, they’re in really good shape. I mean, man. Our route through Strawberry Canyon was strenuous (about 1600–1800 feet in elevation gain) if not long (maybe four miles). We began on a steep fire road that was slightly gullywashed and muddy from yesterday’s rain. Within minutes the distance between my companions and me grew from yards to light years. Sometimes Seamus would stop and look over his furry shoulder at the pinpoint that I was fast becoming.

I’m discouraged. After two months of training I thought I’d be in better shape. As I hyperventilated my way along I realized my foot may be the least of my worries.

Anyway, though, it was an enjoyable hike, great company and a pleasant day to be out — warm but not too hot, sunny but with a sharp wintry light (that my camera couldn’t capture). The smell of eucalyptus and herby things was aggressively good. We passed a young garter snake, coyote or fox scat and some orange, brain-shaped mushrooms.

After 3.5 hours of what felt like all uphill but wasn’t, I saw a fire tower on a hilltop a ways ahead. Trying to sound cheerful I asked, “Are we going up there?” “No, but we can if you want to,” my hiking-mate replied. “I’ll go with you.” She was serious.

The outcome: Heel surprisingly well-behaved again during the hike. Distinctly better than a couple weeks ago. Acupuncture must be helping.

A few hours after the hike: not as happy.

Threat level:

This weekend I’ll make the final decision about the Nepal trip by subjecting myself to a barrage of experiments.

TEST # 1

The Hypothesis: My right heel won’t hurt too much during the usual hike up Marin Avenue.

The Experiment: Looking toward the SF Bay from my bedroom window, my keen nature-girl eye could see that the light rain would soon dissipate. Waterproofing myself, I set off. I vowed that I wouldn’t cheat this time: no duck-walking or tip-toeing with my right foot but rather operating it the way it was designed, in equal partnership with my workhorse of a left foot.

The Findings:

• I don’t know as much about weather forecasting as I thought.
• It’s possible to find pleasure in hiking through steady rain.
• My face lotion tastes bad.
• Marin Avenue during a storm smells good, like a newly cleaned rat cage.
• Cities are prettier in the rain, with torrents in the gutters and leaves falling.
• You can walk pretty far before you realize you’re wearing a maple leaf on your head.
• Oh, and my foot: uncomfortable but only momentarily painful.

The Conclusion: In-depth analysis scheduled for the dawn of a new day (tomorrow); preliminary results equivocal.

Threat level:

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TEST #2

The Task: Complete a brief but fairly strenuous workout at the gym: 20:00 on the elliptical trainer at a high-ish resistance, do all those weight machines, and then stretch the hell out of myself.

The Result: Foot is doing great — feeling better than it has in weeks. Go figure. The rest of me is tired.

Threat level:

This uncertainty has gone beyond ridiculous. Do I rest my foot or exercise it? Pack or wait? Keep reading about Nepal or start researching a geographically level destination?

Even work is affected: To tackle Task XIVa2.7WL or skip to Item PN1426b47.935?

I ask everyone: What would you do? Would you go or would you stay? At the end of my appointment with my ob-gyn today, he asked if I had any questions. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do… ”

I’ve instant-messaged M at the university, gasped questions to Anna while we’re hiking steep hills, begged advice from my sister in Pennsylvania, Skyped Cheryl in Nepal, and e-mailed Teej about what’s up with the oracles.

I’ve also consulted about a billion health experts. On this, the pros agree:

• Bad: The tendon will not heal in time for the trek.
• Good: The tendon will not snap on the trek.
• Neutral: The Himalaya tends toward steepness.
• Bad: Inflamed bursas get worse during steep ascents.
• Good: Steep ascents lead to pretty places.
• Bad: Pretty places aren’t much fun when you’re toting a bad foot.

The remaining mystery is how manageable the pain will be. Today’s doc wondered if I’ve done a practice hike equivalent to a typical trekking day — without the altitude of course. I haven’t. I’ll do it this weekend. That will be the day of reckoning.

One thing is sure: if I can’t go to Nepal in three weeks I’ll need to start making other travel plans immediately, or the disappointment will shove my spirits into really ugly muck.