Hiking, Menopause and an Existential Crisis.

Cramps.

Yes. I said CRAMPS.

(Dear Men, this post is about menopause and hiking…if either interest you, maybe read on…if not, all the best, till next time!)

Cramps. Cramps. Cramps.

And not the period kind, thank fuck…although about two weeks ago, I was CERTAIN that after more than a year of menopause I was getting my period.
Which was maddening and hinted at a physical chaos that I wasn’t ready to indulge.

BUT I think THAT almost-period was just a hormonal surge that still happens almost every month.
And this cyclical event is something that I’ve discovered through my OWN logging of feelings…emotional AND physical…through the last three years or so.
It’s like I still have my period without the bloody show, as it were.
Which is great but at the same time, fucking frustrating.
The release and relief that happened throughout my life, on that shining day my period finally showed up, was cellular.
It justified the raging moods and body misfires…like we fucking NEED something outside of reality to justify our feelings.

“Sorry if I got mad…I was PMS-ing.”

What a crock of shite.
It makes me mad in retrospect…and not PMS mad. Life mad.

I remember talking with friends and one of them saying something to the tune of:

“God, I was such a raging bitch…and then I got my period…and it all made sense.”

God help us, WHAT IF a period was not a justification BUT instead a blessed, brutal clarity that wipes away all the bullshit, helping us realize how we REALLY feel about things?

THINK ON THAT FOR A SECOND.

Anyhow, to today…I’m joyously on Manitoulin Island for a vacation and I went on a wonderful, fairly steady hike today.
A bunch of up and downs, rocks and roots, climbing and descending…with my little dog who needed some help in that department.

Like this kind of help:

Like…that’s a fucking ladder, you guys…and the last step, as they say, is a doozy.

Jo let me place her on ever rung of that ladder, then waited for me to take a few steps up and place her again. God bless her.
On the way down? I was on my ass, with her quietly in my arms, as I descended a stair at a time.

Still! I loved the hike.

I actually loved that ladder, too.

Fucking loved it.

I got happily covered in muck, fell down once (I’m fine) slid down a hill on my ass…on purpose, because it just seemed safer… with JO tethered to my waist all the while.

One of my favourite parts of the journey was realizing how strong I felt.

Even when tumbling, I righted myself quickly.

I felt powerful, strong and not super exhausted…even after a moderately (I would love to write about the different definitions of “moderate” one day) challenging 7K.

All my hard work has paid off.

I cannot remember the last time I smiled this wide at the top of a climb.

This kind of day might not be everyone’s bag…but it sure was/is mine.

Then I drove back to my little cottage, triumphantly ate the takeout fish and chips that I’d procured at The Codfather (!) in Gore Bay…so good…then laid on the couch, belly full, in blissful exhaustion…instead of stretching…which was my fatal mistake.

Okay, not fatal…but a heavy mistake all the same.

You know what?

When I turned 50…like the WEEK I turned 50…I got Charlie Horses in places that I’d never had them before.
Before I was 50, I used to just get them in my calves when I was dancing or working out a lot.
And then, one day, about a week after my 50th, I went for a hike and after that hike, I got muscle tension and spasms that ran up the inside of my thigh into my stomach…ON BOTH SIDES.
It truly felt like end-of-days shit. NO fucking hyperbole.
I cried and cried. The attack of my body against my body felt personal.
And in my signature fashion, as the cramps wracked me, I wondered if I was dying.
And these new, end-of-days cramps lasted a frighteningly long time.

From that day forward my aim was to never have them again…and to that end I googled the words:

Menopause and Leg Cramps

Like, fuck off.

That was the beginning of an almost militaristic logging of every single thing I put into my body.

I have had to become an accountant when it comes to fluid intake…enough to not dehydrate but not so much that I have to pee all night long…often weighing the possible hazards of quenching my thirst past 9:30pm.

Like, FUCK off.

And again, I’ve had to figure all this out on my own, while checking in with my menopausal internet friends and ladies when I get stumped.

Tonight, as I lay on the couch, basking in the joy of a good hike AND fish and chips, I felt a cramp in my foot…which also happens a lot…and when I tentatively stretched it out, the cramp extended up my leg into my CROTCH and then back down the other leg.

I screamed so loud that Jo yelped and the owner of the Air B and B (who lives about 300 feet away) sent me a message to ask if I was okay.

You guys.

After a VERY long reckoning, I tentatively laid down on the yoga mat that is ALWAYS on the floor and cautiously stretched.

Too late…but still.

Yes, I stretched, drank a ton of water…oh, how I will pee tonight…ate a banana and took my daily dose of magnesium…and then wrapped up with a very hot shower.
And you know what?
The shower had a bench in it.
And I fucking sat down in the shower for the first time in my adult life and it was glorious.

Like, FUCK OFF.

As I ran the hot water over my legs I began to future-doom-scroll the rest of my hiking adventure.

“You are too old for this.”

“Yes, you are in shape but you are too big for this.”

“You have wrecked your trip.”

“You should never hike again.”

“How embarrassing this is.”

Circling the drain of doom.

God, the menopause anxiety train is also real, right?

So, I got out of the shower, started to write and here we are.

Grace, Matthews.

Get in your wise mind, Matthews.

I don’t have to hike 7K tomorrow.

I can go out with JO, see the sights, stretch my legs…or stay here and relax.

Pace yourself, Matthews. Grace, Matthews.
I will hike again…and even hike longer.
Today? GRACE.

Yesterday, as I battled the first-day-of-trip-angst that ALWAYS happens when I push off, it all of a sudden became important to me to write about ALL of what happens on my adventures, because while I love them…like LOVE them…like was-waxing-so-hard-about-my-drive-to-Tofino-that-I-booked-the-trip-I’m-on-right-now LOVE THEM…they always have their own big and little challenges and foibles.

They are not picture perfect. Not at all.

So, after I arrived at my Air B and B yesterday, I posted a couple of paragraphs about my solo travel angst on my Instagram and Facebook and received a lovely response…for which I’m always grateful.

There are challenges and important things to consider as a solo hiker, solo traveller, dog mom, as a menopausal woman, as the only driver on my solo adventures and as a recovering anxiety sufferer who is learning to thrive instead of survive…and as a fervent life warrior.

There are hurdles to overcome when getting out into the world and living large.

And that my friends, is okay…I will NOT let it stop me from doing shit.

I would not change today. I really loved most of today.

Okay, I would love to not have the cramps again..but all of it, even including the words I’m writing right now…I would not change it.

Also, to be clear…I should have stretched more this morning…and brought another water bottle along with me on the hike…but I am giving myself grace on that.
I will NOT beat myself up about shit like this anymore.

That being said?
You guys, I’ve imbibed so much water in the last two hours that I can feel it sloshing around my belly right now.
So much water.
I’ve peed three times since I started writing this.
So much peeing.

And so much of the grace.

This day had everything.

Hiking, fish and chips, angst, sitting on the rock in front of this vista and eating two squares of dark chocolate that HAD NOT melted in my back pack…

…hauling Jo up ever step, cramps, climbing all over the place, driving by gorgeous lake after bay, enjoying the unexpected sunshine, dancing to Joni Mitchell’s Conversation, eating eggs and bacon on a bagel while watching the beginning of Waiting to Exhale…they were all parts of this joyous day.

How glorious.

So, I’m off to bed.

Wish me well with the leg cramps…also with the peeing…which I just went to do, again.

What a day.

Existential crisis and all.

While I thought about all of this for the last two days…the drive, the joy, the fear, the angst, the preparation…I realized that you really DO have to train your adventure heart.

: )

 

And ug…also?

Before anyone ELSE @‘s me?

I’m ALREADY in pretty amazing shape.

I work out almost every day.

I took the harder journey on purpose…and am still happy about it.

Namasté.