*Warning: This is damn-long. If you want the Coles Notes version...well, there isn't one. What do I look like? Shakespeare?*
I've always thought of myself as being an optimist -- or at least trying to think positively. When going through a rough patch -- my late teens, my early 30's, the entire year of 2020 -- I try to remember to "face forward" and look to the future. I want to focus on the things I can control and change instead of dwell on what might have been.
**The beginning**
About a month ago I was visiting a provincial park about 12 hours north of me called Sleeping Giant -- Google it, it's gorgeous -- and I was on what turned out to be about a 4 hour hike. I was alone. Literally. I saw no other human being for the entire 4 hours. Now, as relatively new diabetic, that probably wasn't a smart move on my part -- more on this later -- but it got me to thinking about one of my strongest "facing forward" thoughts.
Years ago I was a half-marathon runner and one of the ways I kept myself going during a run was the notion of being halfway. Rather than thinking of the run as being 21 km (or 13 miles for you strange U.S. folks), I would focus on just getting to halfway. I *knew* I could easily -- or "easily" -- run 10 km. If I could just get to that point I'd be halfway and rather than counting up, I'd be counting down. It would be a countdown towards the finish line.
I began applying this philosophy to all sorts of things in life: A long-term goal, a project, a boring meeting, a long drive, a date... I found it was helpful and almost exciting in a way: I'm always looking forward! Get halfway! Perhaps even get halfway to halfway, then I'm counting down to the halfway point, then I'm counting down to the finish. It worked! It's great!
**Halfway**
Back to my hike in Sleeping Giant. About 2 hours into my hike I reached a dead end on the trail, for the lack of a better word. I could have kept going, but it would've been a lengthy, challenging walk that was above my skills (and equipment), and I realized I would have to turn and go back the way I came.
As I began to walk up a modestly steep slope on the path I notice I was labouring far more than I should. I was drinking plenty of water. My blood sugar was probably a bit lower than it should've been, and I forgot to bring sugar pills with me on the hike -- a big booboo on my part. (Yes, I said booboo. I don't see a problem with that.)
It struck me that part of the reason I was labouring a bit was because I was older. You see, in my mind I'm still this 18 year old full of youthful energy, curiosity, and excitement. However, my body disagreed with me. Vehemently.
I began to think about "facing forward": I was more than halfway and I was counting down to getting back to my car. It wasn't a 2 hour hike back, but 30 minutes to get to halfway of being halfway back. My body was fading, but I kept reminding myself of facing forward.
But a new, disturbing though crept into my mind: I'm more than halfway...in my life.
The Countdown
Suddenly the thought consumed me and overwhelmed me. I'm 49. Unless I live to something like 110, I'm more than halfway through my life. Perhaps I'm more than two-thirds through life. There was no rationalizing it; no making the thought go away: I'm in the countdown portion of my life. My 4 hour hike in Sleeping Giant was going from an amazing, scenic, secluded hike into a full-blown, panic-filled (and slightly diabetically dangerous) mid-life crisis. Though, arguably I was past halfway.
Now, my life didn't flash before my eyes. I didn't start sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't go buy a ferrari. (Ok, I *want* to buy a ferrari, but I can't drive stick, and I just got two speeding tickets, so I have to hold off on the whole fast car thing for now.) But I did think back about some of the things I did and wished I had done.
I wished I was before halfway once again. Given I have diabetes I wish I had eaten a hell of a lot more chocolate and a hell of a lot more cake. I love cake now, but I cannot have it. I wish I had taken up photography earlier. I wish I hadn't been so damn shy as a child. And I wish I wasn't halfway already.
Already.
This is one countdown I cannot stop. The conflict in my mind as I continued my journey back to the car was incredible. How do I face forward with the biggest countdown I have. How do I get excited about the fact I am counting down in life instead of counting up?
Halfway past halfway
My mind and body both were very tired during the final parts of my walk. I found myself weaving down the path, almost as if I were a snake slowly making my way towards some distant prey. I reached a fork in trail and I knew I had to go left, yet I stood at the trail signage reading it 4 and 5 times over to ensure I was going in the right direct. (I'm pretty sure I was in a mild hypoglycemic state at this point.)
Interestingly, my thoughts were focused on wishing I could share with "you" -- whoever the hell you are -- this story, especially if you're younger. Especially if you're still counting up.
Counting up
When you're young, you think you're invincible. You embrace life, take risks -- sometimes not even realizing it -- challenge yourself, challenge others, and look at the world in awe, fear, excitement, and trepidation.
But you do not think about the fact you're counting up and counting up to halfway. Once you reach halfway, you're counting down. I wish I had thought of that. I'm not sure what I would have done differently, but I would like to think I would've at least appreciated all those experiences more.
The end of the countdown
After staggering back to my car, I popped a couple of sugar pills, chugged more water, and closed my eyes.
I wish I had eaten more cake.
