Dear Reader,
One tiny college footnote that only a few people know, and even they might not remember, is that I tried out for the college cheerleading squad my freshman year.
Part of me wonders what I was thinking. Saint Louis University is a D-1 school. I had not been a cheerleader since middle school when I tied my sweat-soaked hair back after my own basketball game to cheer for the boys’ team.
For a few weeks I practiced a handful l of clapping, yelling chants, attempting to remember to stay poised and lock my elbows. I started tumbling again, re-mastering a back tuck and trying out stunts with the male cheerleaders.
It never quite took. My rhythm was off. A lot felt forced and I couldn’t fake it. I didn’t make the cut – the judges likely seeing through my subconscious ploy to be closer to an elite college basketball court.
Have you ever felt “off” on a day? Or maybe succession of days? Where a routine task seems like it is difficult? Forgetting a badge? Leaving a door open?
Rhythm helps us make it through the hours, weeks, months. It’s a natural undercurrent to the seasons, and a guiding orchestra of daily affirmations that remind us that we exist, that what we do matters in the grand cycle of life.
Sometimes, though, we have to seek out rhythm - to create it, to achieve an uphill goal.
One way to keep our bodies and mind in sync is allowing for a restful routine. Over the last three months my work start-time has fluctuated by a few hours. Often I have a change of assignment where I am notified around 5 a.m. of the change. Inevitably I have felt a bit “off.”
Entire studies have been made about natural rhythms. In a journal article, Adverse metabolic and cardiovascular consequences of circadian misalignment from the National Academy of Sciences, desynchronization – a condition for night-shifters and others with schedules opposite sunlight – is discussed. Desynchronization is linked to health problems, such as a higher risk for chronic diseases, as well as higher levels of stress.
New jobs, new babies, family turmoil and sickness. It doesn’t take much for a good sleep to be interrupted and a stretch of disrupted sleeps to wreak havoc.
So what to do but recharge.
A month ago we put a lodging voucher to use so I could hike in the Mountain West, which is likely no surprise to Errant Daisy readers. We had never been to Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, plus the challenge of Manitou Incline was calling me.
Pretty sure my husband will rethink going on Spring Break with me again. I pulled him out of a warm bed toward outside temperatures around 10 degrees and I definitely heard him sigh (likely questioning his marriage vows) as we looked up from the bottom of the ascent.
Manitou Incline is an extreme hike that is 2,744 steps with 2,000 vertical feet in under a mile. It was part of a narrow-gauge railway where the tracks were washed out.
We started at an OK clip, myself pretending it was just like a multi-floor stairwell. As we climbed higher we encountered the snow-blanketed steps. We stopped talking. I took off a layer as my heart pounded and my body warmed. I only heard breathing, which was becoming more labored.
There is a bailout spot at 1,800 steps with a dirt trail going downward. This was not an option for me and I convinced my husband to keep going and we would rest after each 100 steps achieved. At one rest stop among the flurries floating down a chipmunk scrambled out from the side trail to greet me.
My head woozy from the elevation and exhilarated by exercise I imagined it to say:
“You have more strength than you know to get up to the top. Believe in yourself - I do. Also, do you have a snack for me?”
Halfway up I was full-on bear crawling with my burning fingertips out of my fingerless gloves grasping the upper step as it sliced through a layer of snow. My back and hamstrings wanted to quit but I had found a rhythm and there was no turning back.
The view at the top is usually a good one and the victory can often set the tone for the next hill to climb. I had found a groove. I feel it right now too, and must remember to keep going when it seems absent.
Thank you for reading. May your rhythm have you dancing, playing, laughing.
Love,
T