Surprise. Help.

A few months ago I heard a stirring of plans among close friends, acquaintances and strangers to do the Presidential Traverse in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. No dates were set, but the idea of spending time in a place like that seems very enticing. When the powers of logistics decided that date and I was propositioned, I immediately declined. Something about spending a day moving in the mountains to a potentially exhaustive point less than 48 hours before Candace and I celebrated our love with our closest friends and family atop a much smaller mountain seemed irresponsible. However, less than 12 hours after I was propositioned I told the story to Greg on a Friday morning run and he responded with “I don’t know, that doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea to me…” The gears were set in motion and logistics were smoothed out to make this day out happen before what would likely be the most important day of my life two days later. 

As the day drew closer, last minute plans changed, cars were crashed, bones broken and both ligaments and minds were stressed to their near breaking points. The certainty of both this day out and our ceremony felt as though it began to slip through my fingers and I, resisting the urge to stamp my feet and throw a toddler’s temper tantrum, attempted to communicate second best alternatives that I thought would be good enough. Somehow, through none of my own efforts, everything simply fell into place. Some symptoms just seemed to pass, others tapped into some universal power to commit to walking up a mountain on one leg, and as the weather forecast cleared to reveal likely the best four day stretch of good weather New England has seen in months, I felt that all the worry was for naught. I was in disbelief that these things I was participating in, both moving, one planned to the T and the other thrown together, were actually going to happen.

Doing the Presidential Traverse in a day is certainly a “Big Day Out”, some 18 miles and 8000 ft of gain across some of the consistently most rugged terrain in the entire Appalachian Range. I felt prepared, and due to the aforementioned uncertainty, I had no expectations. Looking back on it, the act itself felt unremarkable, in a physical sense. Confidence and fitness were matched perfectly with the task, and while, yes, my feet were tired at the end of the day I knew that I had not blown myself out to complete this route. Unfortunately, I usually rely on “blowing myself out” in order to get big feelings to write about in these posts. This can be read in my previous posts about going far with friends or endurance is love. I didn’t feel those big feelings associated with a hard effort. Instead I felt accomplished, slightly exhausted, and ready to get over to Lake George for Candace's and my ceremony. 

The reason these feelings that were absent on this day feel so powerful is that they are unexpected. I could tell you that riding a century alone could move you and make you cry and you could believe me, but when it happens it will still be surprising. So needless to say I was surprised by certain aspects of this day. Hayden Voss, the acquaintance, is a formidable athlete. He always has been. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated by his capability. It was surprising to be able to match him consistently on the uphills. It was surprising to find myself sharing advice and having him listen and learn from me as if I had some expertise to draw from. It was surprising, of course, to meet a complete stranger early in the day and spend a whole day with her so that we could get her back to her car. It was also surprising to go 7 hours with her only to realize she wasn’t even 5 feet tall. Lastly it was surprising to see myself effortlessly fall into the role of guide. To know and lead people through a place (at their pace not mine, thanks to Candace’s voice in my head reprimanding me over and over for going too fast) to feel knowledgeable and informed and to be thanked for it. This was surprising, which is why this is what I have chosen to write about.

It really made me think about what it means to help people. I’m not going to take you through the events of our love birthday that occurred two days later. That was too big of an event to unpack in a blog post, but what I will say about it, which was surprising, was to witness how this ceremony helped others work through their own issues. Much like how my knowledge of the Whites gave strangers and acquaintances the confidence to get through that challenging day, witnessing the love as well as Candace and I and asking others to write about love, seems to exponentiate the healing process of friends and family in attendance. And it wasn’t just the one person that I had a feeling would do that and need it, it was many, some unexpected.

I think this weekend between the Presidential Traverse and our celebration really made noticeable my ability to help people grow, by not being afraid to ask them to do the hard thing. To ask them to charge up 600’ to catch the sunset, to ask them to write an entry about love, to ask them to hike up 700’ on crutches. I have spent so much time working on myself and making sure that I was good enough for me and those around me. Good enough to go on. That I didn’t notice the ways in which those same things I had taught myself, could unconsciously be applied to those around me. To unconsciously force growth out of my environment. We are all better for it. I helped. Surprise.