PCT training: knee problems and aerial dance

My plan when I was started preparing for the PCT was to focus on physical training and injury prevention.  To get into “the best shape of my life” before starting.  

I read books about exercise- Chi Running and Fix your Feet.   I set out a training plan involving gradually increasing my distance and pack weight, and doing specific exercises to targeted at my hiking form. 

Knee problems
Despite my efforts, around New Years, my old knee pain (IT band problem) returned.  I overdid it by hiking too fast with too much weight than I was probably ready for.  (oh, I miss my lightweight pack!)  Since then I've reduced the weight I've been carrying to 15-20 lbs, so it doesn't hurt.  However, doubt at my physical ability had hit an all-time high.  What if the only reason that I've always felt so strong as a backpacker is because my pack weight is light?  When I carry a heavy pack for the long water carries on the PCT, could I get too injured to hike?

Fortunately, I’ve had other things to keep my busy….  preparing for another aerial dance show (i.e. dance trapeze and aerial silks- sort of like Cirque du Soleil- only at an amateur-level).  I thought this might give my legs and feet time to heal.  Ironically, all the aerials practicing left me exhausted and ever more sore.  It doesn’t seem like rest climbing the silks over and over, or when I am walking around with my pack at 6 AM.

Why I'm so sore- climbing up and down and up and down.

In-town hiking in the morning.

Lessons from trapeze and aerial silks
I've learned a few lessons from getting ready from our aerial performance that I hope will help me for the PCT.  From doing aerials, I learn that soreness is part of the process, and is a physical sign that I am getting stronger, but I also learn how to not push it too far.  I stretch, I rest, I do exercises to improve my form, then I go back to practice. 

Massaging my sore forearms.

I learn to listen to my classmates and teachers when they tell me that I am strong enough to do a trick, when I don’t believe it myself.  It always turns out they are right.  I think about this when one friend tells me "I have no doubt in you completing the PCT in a thru-hike.” 

 Photo by Susan.

This show was the most challenging one I’ve ever done-  the cues were tricky, there were two transitions that I only get ‘right’ 25% of the time, and there was little time between our two pieces to rest my forearms.  When we first choreographed our aerials piece, I didn’t know if I would ever have the strength to make it through the entire set of tricks.  A few times during practice, I’d have to climb down, unable to continue, my muscles spasming.  But I knew my classmates believed in me and that arms have never been so strong.  Sure enough, we totally pulled off an awesome show!  I hope I will be as strong for the PCT.  I poke at my rock-solid forearms wondering if those muscle cells can please migrate down to my legs.

When I look down at my hands and see my callouses, I know I have the hands of an aerialist.  I realize… I AM an aerialist!   I practice saying "I AM a PCT thru hiker” and can hardly believe it will become true in another 2 months.  

The final performance goes really well!  Photo by Susan.

Flying high

***Just gonna warn you- non-backpacking related content this week.***

Only had time for a dayhike (with no photos of flowers- sorry) because this weekend was the show at my aerial dance studio.  The show included performances representing the whole Canopy Studio community- from beginners who'd been taking class for only a few months to members of the repertory company.  I hope that watching this full spectrum allowed the audience to be inspired to try a class or workshop.  It's so fun to play up in the air, and you build enormous strength and flexibility.

Photo by S. Montgomery

Our insect-themed slings piece makes me so proud because of its creativity, though last year's piece had more impressive tricks, and our spring piece had fun doubles work.  What I loved about this piece was that our crazy antics cracked me up every time we practiced.

Our choreography was a collaborative effort- each of us invented tricks, and then we melded them together.  As they morphed they took on a richness greater than the individual parts.  When my classmates made up moves I couldn't do at first, I had the fiercest determination to master them.  If our instructors had given us that level of material, I think I'd have protested.

Can you identify which insects inspired our costumes?

I loved performing with my three wonderful classmates/ friends.  It is immensely satisfying to move together as a group.  But it wasn't always easy to coordinate our movements.  Due to trick difficulty and fickleness of fabrics/humidity/sweat, we never knew if we'll get a foot caught or slip out of a wrap.  Glances out of the corner of our vision assessed if all were together.  We spoke volumes in just a quick look-- "let's go NOW! or "slow down so we can catch up!"   We knew one another's tough spots, and mentally cheered each other on-- yes you can do it!  Go-go-go!   We were only as awesome as our collective success (which is one similarity this has to a group backpacking trip).

Here is video of the last part of our piece:

It was all over so quickly.  Months of work, extra practices, countless emails, hours of early mornings painting costumes, so many weekends of trips cut short so I could run back for more practices.  All for two- five minute moments.  But oh so worthwhile to be bad-ass and fearless, and to have created something unique.

Next week, back on the trail...

Back to Being a Beginner (Part 1: Fabrics)

In addition to taking trapeze class, for the past year I've been learning another type of aerial dance, fabrics.  Fabrics requires more strength and skill, and I find it exceedingly difficult.  I've come close to tears, been full of frustration, and contemplated quitting countless times.  I stay with it only because it is exceedingly beautiful, it pushes me physically to totally new levels, and because I love my teachers and classmates.  But each week I have to give myself a pep talk before I can open the door of the studio.

With the start of the new class session, two thirds of the students in our class advanced to the next level.  The rest of us stayed behind.  It felt like being held back a grade and returning to "remedial" beginner class.   I know I was slow and timid learning the new tricks and many of the other students were much stronger.  Fabrics class is more difficult than anything physically I've done--  I also take trapeze class, and quickly master new tricks and feel strong in that class.  But fabrics is a different story--  sometimes my body just refuses to do the moves.  I try over and over again, muscles quivering.  I get so frustrated watching my classmates do the moves that I can't do.  When I saw my old classmates who advanced to the intermediate class, it didn't make me feel too good about myself.  Why should I continue if I wasn't a "natural" like all of them?

But during our beginner class, I started to have more fun.  We reviewed old tricks, and I could focus on technique and challenging myself to try them higher up in the air, and I found I could do some things I'd never been able to do before.  A few times I got caught up in the moment-- spinning, climbing high, twisting, flying.  Sure I was in the "slow" class, but that didn't matter because I was finally dancing and it felt beautiful.  I was finally achieving flow, because the level of difficulty of the class matched my ability.

I love fabrics because it teaches me life lessons.  How I compare myself to others.  How only when I believe in myself can I do certain moves.  How when I hesitate, I fail.  I see the importance of intense concentration and attention to form.  I also appreciate feeling what it is like to be the slow one, because it makes me realize that I'm doing this for the process of learning and not for any goal.  I savor doing something for the pure joyful experience.

Feeling the Flow

Half an hour into the hike it happens:  the climb becomes effortless, my body relaxes, my breathing falls in sync with the rhythm of my footfalls and heartbeat.   Worries from the work week and other mental chatter fade away. The focus of my awareness shifts-- while some attention stays on my breath and the rhythm of my stride,  I also fall in tune to the outside world.  The colors of the leaves intensify.  The textures, scents, and shadows of the forest come alive.  I notice how the wind gently touches my skin and how the earth presses against the soles of my feet.   Plants wave their branches at me, and (crazy as it sounds) I see the interconnectedness of this ecosystem and the kinship all living things share.  I am at home.  I can hike forever.

Flowing down the Zion Narrows (Photo by P. Soukup)

It happens also when I'm up on the trapeze at my aerial dance class.  I am totally in the moment.  It is a delightful challenge to focus intently on many things at once: moving with the music, legs extended and chest open, keeping balanced, staying in sync with my classmates.  My thoughts are clear, time loses meaning, I am free and flying.  On the ground, I may dislike my body, but up in the air, I have plenty of strength, flexibility, and poise and am decidedly happy in my own skin.  Afterward, I have bruises and rope burns, but the pain doesn't even register when I'm up on the trapeze.  I am utterly happy.

I found out that this mental state that I experience both out on the trail and up in the air has a name: flow.  Wikipedia says flow involves being "fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and success in the process of the activity." It results loss of self-consciousness and feelings of joy and transcendence of normal awareness.  It happens when the task is challenging but matches one's ability level and offers immediate positive feedback.  Tasks that I enjoy most are the ones that allow me to experience flow.  Things that I find either too easy or too difficult, and that don't require a lot of skill, very rarely give me the same sense of bliss.

One of the benefits of flow is that it has a meditative effect similar to what many experience in yoga or sitting meditation.  It trains your mind to stay focused for sustained periods of time, and it helps you practice controlling your thoughts.  I believe this is the key to being happy.  When do you experience flow?

Mixing things up

It's fun to mix things up.  Some things go well together like peanut butter and banana, or campfires and conversation.   My two favorite forms of exercise, backpacking and trapeze, are wonderfully complementary when performed separately.  After a kick-ass backpacking trip, I can hobble to trapeze class for another intense workout, which uses mostly non-overlapping muscles.  Unfortunately, the practices I pick up in these two activities don't always mix:

1.  While deodorant doesn't work for me for backpacking, wearing it to trapeze is the polite thing to do.  You never know where your partner's head might end up.

2. You can never have too much glitter.. except when it gets all over your tent and sleeping bag.

3.  A big mug of hot chocolate warms you up in the morning and gets you hydrated after a long hike, but doesn't feel good sloshing around when you are hanging upside down with the bar pressed up against your stomach.

4.  Getting slippery silicone seam-sealer all over your hands while waterproofing your tent right before trapeze class does not improve your ability to hang on tight to the ropes during class.

5. Doing trapeze tricks from vines hanging from trees may get you closer to the ground than you'd expect.  Like, ON the ground.

Attempting a shoulder stand on a vine, but ending up on the ground.

Training: Trapeze

Photo by Lauren Puls

I've been taking trapeze and aerial fabrics several times a week for the last year. Trapeze captivates my imagination, and provides a full body workout like no other. I keep going back week after week for comradery and the pure joy of it. It challenges my brain to think in three dimensions, to remember routines, and develops mind-body connection. It makes me feel beautiful and graceful and strong. It reminds me to play and dance and feel like a kid.

Lessons from trapeze that help me (in hiking and in life):

1. It's not all about strength. Flexibility and balance are just as important. But you can't do it if you aren't strong, so practice those situps, pushups, and pullups *and* stretch!

2. You have to learn to let go at some point, and trust that you've prepared sufficiently, so that when you fall, the fabrics and knots you've created will be enough to keep you up.

3. You can tap into your energy reserves and go beyond what you think you can do.

4. You have to know when to stop when your muscles are shaking and your brain is too tired to think clearly.

5. It's not about the tricks and the poses, it's about finding the beauty in getting from one move to the next, and savoring the flow, making the in-between the most interesting part. Because most of the time is the in-between time.