A slippery slope is rarely what you think it is. Rarely a place where you stop and dither and over-think and chose your path knowing that it is or is not a slippery slope. No. A slippery slope is just any ordinary trail like every other ordinary trail you have ever hiked that suddenly, without warning causes you to lose your footing and stumble. The last time I had a memorable fall on a hiking trail was coming down Gold Star at Colorado National Monument. That time, on a very innocuous portion of the trail, my feet rolled on pebbles and my arm landed on teeny tiny cactus. The year before that, I was on a presumed dry portion of Clunker and I slipped and my entire backside got plastered with bentonite mud. I am pretty sure these are not the kinds of falls and stumbles the public health interviewer is asking about when she says to someone over sixty, “How many times have you fallen in the last year?”
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I was hiking on Monday – something I do as often as possible – maybe 6 or 7 days a week – sometimes twice in one day. It was hot – hotter than I would have liked – but then, it is summer and even though I was at 8,000 feet in elevation we were enduring a heat wave. It was not a new trail nor was it new to me. I clipped along at my usual pace seeing no one until two runners passed me beside the wetlands. I continued through a mini alpine jungle and began the descent that would take me through a run-off, seasonably dry. Still nothing unusual except the heat of the day – although it should be noted as the heat increases, dirt and scree seems to become looser, more apt to be volatile. Mid-stride my foot skated on a small piece of rock. I went down, not to my face or to my butt but folded up like an accordion. My toes curled so tight as my balance reflex kicked in that I felt a sudden, bright pain in my big toe – a pain I haven’t felt since I lost a toenail in childhood. At the same time the elastic to the left and under my breastbone snapped. Wait! Elastic? Do I have a tendon running horizontal under my lowest rib? Whatever it is, I heard it and felt it. I felt it right in the same place where I sometimes feel a niggling little flutter as I try to drift off to sleep at night after planking for 10 seconds extra – and it’s not my heart. Well, I was certainly able to continue my hike and enjoy lunch in a beautiful place and make my return hike, but I walked a little slower and somewhat gingerly as I went out to the Opera House that night because my left toes – three of them – were starting to exhibit pain. I enjoyed an 8 mile walk along the river on Wednesday without pain. Sleeping at night has not been a problem. I prop my legs so the sheet does not rest on my injured toenail. I wake in leisurely fashion in the predawn light and stretch and wiggle my digits and appendages gently. Like a good chiropractic or masseuse apprentice, I explore the most worn discs and tender ligaments and muscles of my body before rising to greet the day. The area under my rib cage is definitely more tender than it ought to be. I spent some time online researching organs and ribs and rest and recovery. It’s time to go to the grocery for healthful food.
When I want to go to town, I walk in. Being the busy tourist season, employees that work on Main Street have to park up by my place anyway so I probably can’t park any closer. I live on 9th Street, but I usually walk a block or two out of my way to cross Third Avenue at a 4 way stop. It is safer that way. Not many drivers know the speed limit on Third Avenue is 25 miles per hour. Oh, I know, pedestrians have the right-of-way. But what good does it do if the car in the first lane stops considerately for you thereby luring you into the path of the second lane where the driver has no intention of stopping?
So today I walked into town. I crossed at the 4 way stop on 8th and made it safely to Main where I choose always to cross at a traffic light. I know from experience, barring any impatient left-hand turners, I can make it safely across the street once the countdown starts – even if the number is already on six. But not today. Not even setting out on 10. There will be no running today. Also no lifting, which is why I didn’t take my kayak out in the middle of the week. I slipped on a slippery slope on Monday and I need to recoup. Anyway, I walked to the store and got carrots and beets because those are supposed to be good spleen food and just plain healthy. But I didn’t get red beets – I got yellow – because even though I am not a worrywart, I don’t want to have a heart attack thinking I have internal bleeding. Self-diagnosis can also be a slippery slope.
