rehab

hamstrung out, exercise addict, in rehab. ironically listening to amy winehouse while the reality of no hiking, no biking, no running, no activity reconfigures spring. daydreaming of base jumping table rock in a windsuit stitched from my pink bathrobe, inspired by the film 60 seconds.

questioning the virtue of stretching while dutifully following the regimen my physical therapist gave me, seemingly drawn from a 50's era exercise manual. we can operate on the brain, stabilize kimchi for space travel, and yet formal treatment for exercise injuries involves an ultrasound machine (presumably safe enough for the unborn, maybe the ob/gyn uses a different kind?), or electrodes taken from Frankenstein.
an yet, i comply, go to therapy. massage, yoga, all the wellness wasn't working, so many combinations and configurations, hard to know. trying to take it easy, even harder. the physical therapist, is my treatment counselor, parole officer, keeping me in line, making sure i'm not falling off, sneaking onto a trail, up a ridge. i promise to keep doing the exercises, to keep my bike in the garage. in this pause of inactivity i see only a distant image of the world many must face, people with real, chronic, complicated conditions. i recognize my good fortune, the temporary nature of this setback.

paddling. there's still the pleasure of blade against water in limited, gentle doses. gliding past turtles aligned on fallen logs. a movement disturbs all but one. this one is larger, has a leg extended yogalike into the sun. is it age, temperament, or something less understandable that keeps the turtle pasted to the log when the others dutifully responded to motion by scuttling below to blend in with muck and leaves on the bottom?

even artificial, small lakes with unnatural edges have some hidden reaches. a few creeks feed this tiny lake and enough recent rainfall enables us to explore the zone where the tumble of whitewater smooths into flat. our range of access is limited, but exciting to be under the cover of rhododendron (before there are too many spiders or snakes to drip off branches); to seamlessly transition from the afternoon sun on the lake into the cool, darkness of this creek. a wolf spider, the size of a child's palm, patrols an edge of boulder. an unusually lanky laurel rises above the rhododendron canopy umbrella-like. there is barely enough water to hold our kayaks above the sandy bottom. we backpaddle cautiously in space between waterfall and open water.