A year ago, I decided to be brave and hike Mount Katahdin (see above). It is a huge mountain in northern Maine in Baxter State Park. I didn't think I would be able to do it and multiple times wanted to turn around. Right when I was almost to the top of that hellish mountain, above tree-line with the summit in view, I was pulling myself up over a rock and heard and felt a memorable pop in my ankle. I immediately sat down and started yelling for my husband. I took off my boot to make sure no bones were popping out, wrapped my ankle in my bandana, and put my boot back on and tied it as tight as it would go. When I got up and tried to walk on it it kept popping. So I had to slide down the entire mountain on my rear. After crying and cursing my way down the mountain, with my husband having to catch me in the steeper areas, I made it down. I had a giant hole in the butt of my pants (of course I chose pink underwear that day) and my hands were bruised and scuffed up, but I made it down.
I swore I would never hiked that mountain again. This weekend, a year after the initial injury, we drove up to Baxter and my husband hiked up Katahdin, but I chose to take a more leisurely hike. But still I was able to hike! There were hills and uneven surfaces and even exposed roots I had to navigate around, but I did fine. It was a great feeling! Being able to be outdoors again and go places you can only get to by hiking in is a wonderful experience. I am grateful for that and happy to be doing so well. Maybe in a year or two when I have a little more confidence in my ankle, I will hike to the top of Katahdin! Never say never right?
