Behind the scenes, the readouts from my IHFProducts – Polar in SA #PolarGrit tell the real story. Daily logged sessions stopped dead on August 10th, and for five days thereafter, no measurable Steps or Activity are indicated (I am assuming that my watch was removed for at least part of this period). Since then, there’s been an ongoing increase in mobility, mostly logged while crutching around the park with the dogs and family. Injury management boils down to a non-stop process of unravelling trauma, and thank god for Karyn, who guides me through the panel-beating and rehab. Most of the remaining pain at this stage is linked to the broken scapula and ribs, with sleeping intermittent.
Looking at the #POLAR data, what I find most interesting is the lack of any major spike in my heart rate during the fall or impact (I somehow thought this would be off the charts). There are a few solid jags during the adrenaline-fogged walk off the mountain, though, but peaking at only 140bpm. I cannot pick up any tangible assistance from gods, angels or aliens in the graphs, though
And so the journey continues, with a shift away from looking at life through the viewfinder, and instead experiencing it’s flow through the weaving together of words. And while I ruminate, write and reminisce, this unfolding path of mine – and the final tales waiting to be told – are becoming ever more distinct.
I’m not going to lie: I seriously miss the mountains and oceans. More than anyone can imagine. But, as the Buddhist monk said: “Wherever you go, there you are”
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