Creating Space to Shine

My body was tired. I was sore all over and couldn’t properly rest enough to regain my energy. 

I couldn’t figure how to manage all the dishes, socks on the floor, dust bunnies, and stinking compost bins. On top of firewood and weeding and watering and harvesting and mothering and meal managing. How do people keep their windows clean and their yards so mowed and their jobs on top of it all? How do their knees not hurt when they walk, and how do they have time to get out there, where there’s so much piling up all around them? I wondered if it was just me stuck in the dullness, seizing up so tightly, with no time and no space. 

Oh, how I needed space—intracellular, spiritual, physical, and mental. I felt bogged down and distracted and restless. I needed something drastic. I needed to go all in. So I signed myself up for The Kusam Klimb.

It started as a path to get water from the creek, but after he secured his water source, he thought he might as well just keep going. Over the years, the steep trail has gained notoriety for its difficulty and has become home to an annual competitive event.

The race is a 26 km route that gains 1,500 m in elevation as it goes up Bill’s Trail and over Mt H’Kusam and down the other side on old logging roads and connector trails. The old slogan was “Are You Tough Enough?” and it’s no joke. It’s intense. Every solstice weekend, Sayward’s population more than doubles, the valley filling with people who are up to an incredible challenge. The air hums with determination. So why not me?

I began to feel it in my bones—this was the commitment that I needed. This goal, this ultimate test of fitness, would be a gateway. I needed to shine, and like all the brightest stars, I needed space to do so.

And so it began. I created space on my weekend to go to yoga, and in turn, the yoga created space in my body. I slowly opened up my hips, my hamstrings, my shoulders, my back. I created space in my day to get outside and walk, and every few days, I went for a little run. As I soaked in my own thoughts and the sights and sounds of the forest trails, my heart opened and my mind opened. Sometimes I listened to podcasts. I was getting more and more inspired. I was learning new things.

I created more space by carving out time to go hiking with my friends. The laughter, the conversations, the shared feats that connected us wove a thread of warmth and joy into my week. I came home from those hikes with my heart full and my body stronger. I created space by cutting out alcohol, giving my mind the break from that depressant. I gave myself back the time after dinner to read and write and stay awake long enough to enjoy an evening to myself or with my husband. I created space by letting go of self-imposed expectations of productivity, the nagging urge to always do more. Actually, I could be more present. I could take care of each moment instead of rushing through my days, trying to stay ahead.

Even though I was living my dream, building a life off-grid, becoming self-sustainable, and homeschooling my kid on the edge of a beautiful river, even though I had more than I could have asked for, I needed to climb mountains too. I needed to be strong enough to climb them.

 I just kept imagining myself cresting the peak, walking over a magnificent threshold, shining like a star way up there, 1500 m above sea level, and sending it all the rest of the way back down to sea level, fuelled by pickle juice and Coca Cola. I imagined the whole thing over and over again. And then I did it.