Getting past how far you’ve gone/ #Globalboho.

I’d been inching towards it all week.

Beyond that bend in the road you can’t see past in the picture up there is half a mile from my current home base. To walk to it and back would be a mile.

Even though it’s an 1/8th of a mile to & from my gig & I’m getting through the 8hr shift of sitting and standing with fewer issues everyday as long as I am mindful & will consciously rest, each time I tried to go further than the mini loop my back would winge out just enough to give me pause and take my ass back home, fighting off feeling quietly defeated.


I Still have kept at it like that kid trying to jump up on that box & missing again & again.

I found ways to add what I internally called incrementals to my commute, like coming in the far door at work, taking the stairs on autopilot. Maybe I couldn’t do the mile yet but I could make that 8th a 4th.

And I started walking through the winge-ing. A little. Not pushing through to where it feels like tearing but to the point of “Ok, we can go home…but we have to go home that way.”

I actually didn’t know the measurements until I sat down to write this and checked them.

It’s really just been longing to get to HERE, which is where I go to talk with Poseidon that used to keep the peace out here, that jaunt to that spot. You can see the ocean from certain rooms in our house but the decompression of that vista point has been cosmic for me out here. It’s a lush green and blue quarter mile from work.

And there were different spots that different aspects of me tuckered out along the way after I started aching today. To gently keep going after those points was deep.

But I made it.

And I decided to keep going. I felt fine, I’d walked through the ache and wanted to see how far I COULD go before shutting down mentally &emotionally, let alone physically. Then I got to this point where I could see these trees across the valley on the road…

…and something in me cried out.

Because here’s the thing.

I’d ebbed a bit But I was hiking a lot out here, like over 20 meandering miles round trip. On a light day. And they’re serious trails.

Passing that little cluster of trees quickly became NOTHING hiking wise. It was like most hikes didn’t even feel like they officially even Began until on the far side of them back then.

Yet here I was Today, on the side of the hill across the valley pushing through to get to where I could see the trees across the way, back brace and all.

That shit?

That hit me hard.


I have Never been athletic.

But even with all my…shall we say…Upticked cerebral capacities… I have truly been one of the most Physical blerd chicks many have met. If we’re cool… I have fucking affectionately grabbed, shoved, punched, kicked, mugged or tackled you like a gleefully motherfuck. Those are my point blank kinesthetics. & If I love you, you know it because I’ve probably leapt up and stabbed you with a plastic fork for taking a fry or something. I am the Queen of talking with the full weight of my person lol.

& yeah, I’m dementedly ethereal as fuck but I have driven this rocketship of a body like a limited edition 410 series superAmerica Ferrari (Like a bad assed mad genius) since God topped me out at these proportions and gave me the keys at age eleven. When I was a clubkid I wasn’t a prancer, I was a Dancer, six+ hours straight on a light night with full days ahead, six nights a week solely because in every scene at least One night had to suck lol. It’s been a very dangerous and very fun mix, even celibate seasons lol.

Looking at those trees didn’t just hurt.

It was standing on the other side of what it took to gently get myself to where I could See the fucking clutch of trees across the way, and being embarrassedly winded as I looked at them, even though I’ve been doing physical therapy consistently-

It was That being today’s VICTORY~ and that victory being a fucking bona fide REAL ONE…That made me creak down and stoically find this rock-

I needed to bend over and painfully pick up something striated to commemorate my own recognition of the weirdly magnificent magnitude of this shit.

Straight “Sonafabitch-! I’ve been fucking this Hurt??”

Now, back home my back is like

“…iii geeettttt iiittt… but ahhh fiuuuuuuuucccckkkkk ah youuuuuuuuu~ Bof en culo di-” lol.

And I’m taking the cuss out, trying to take no meds, to deal with the diss of the discomfort amicably…

Because we (my back AND I) Gotta get through this. & cussing aside, I made it home before she (my back) let me Fully have it. She showed some “Youz just wait till we get home” decorum lol.

Because she knows I love her. And that I am doing this to get her actually wasn’t a punkass before…back to better than Okay.


This also showed me that canceling the much needed end of March vacation from here- to go to NM to do a Chaco Canyon day tour hiking trip with pit stops in LA- was NOT punkassed fear like the devil has been fucking with me over.

It was going to be compression to get to Albuquerque, compression to get out in the middle of technically nowhere with a small contingent of lost civ geek retirees- even where I’d lined up to stay in L.A. on both sides of the hiking trip to relax was fn down and uphill to get to anywhere else.

I Was scared… But if a solo mile loop has my back talking angrily with her hands like a pissed off lil indignant man from Naples whose hot lil car got a scrape while he was driving like an asshole…a literal month after the second injury?

…canceling it was the fucking common sense thing to do.

Back pain (radiating) yelling at me like Danny Aiello cussing out Spike for throwing a garbage can through the window in Do tha Right Thing aside…

…That fn Mile loop counts.

It sucks that it does lol.

But thank frickin God I could finally get my gonads girded up to even attempt it.

It’s a good step forward.


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