DOING A DOUBLE

There are mountains in Phoenix…well at least they are called mountains, but from this Montana Girls perspective, I think they are hills.  Mountain Wannabe’s maybe, but not really real Mountains.  Flagstaff, Arizona has real mountains and there are real mountains in other parts of Arizona as well. So, not to be outdone by any other part of the state on any topic, the good folks of the Phoenix Metro area have some hills that they proudly refer to as Mountains. If you went by names alone, you would think I was living smack dab in the middle of the Rockies.   My little place and space in Phoenix is nestled between Lookout Mountain and North Mountain and I can easily ride a bike to the base of Piestewa Peak (Majestic sounding, don't you think?) and Camelback Mountain.  And the mountains near my house can be conquered in about hour...unless you have to park your car.  Plan on adding an hour to find a parking spot if you have to drive and park at base camp. 

Mountaineering in Phoenix is light on the gear requirements, so that is a plus. Phoenix Mountains can be hiked in tennis shoes and a bottle of water, maybe two in the summer. A hat is also recommended but not required and maybe some sunscreen if you are a user of such chemicals. That's pretty much it.

When I think of Mountains, I think of Mountains…real Mountains…rugged Mountains. Mountains where considering a trip to the summit takes skill and planning and equipment and freeze dried food and sometimes permits…and also possibly a Sherpa.   A trip from base to summit of a real Mountain has inherent dangers, and might take days, and most certainly more than about an hour.

Still, Phoenix calls their mounds of dirt and cactus Mountains...Whatever floats your boat I suppose, but I’m not fooled.  I looked it up…because that’s what I do…I look things up. I looked up the difference between a mountain and a hill. Turns out, one person’s hill is another person’s mountain for the most part but the generally accepted differences are that mountains are bigger, and higher, and have two or more zones of climate and plant life at different altitudes. The “Mountains” of Phoenix have a single climate zone (hot) and one  basic variety of plant life (cactus and desert shrubs). No big variations of any kind are apparent during the ascent to the top. So to me they are hills. Phoenix has hills if you ask me. Hill that are hiked, not mountains that are climbed.  But again, whatever makes a person happy…It does sound so much more impressive to have climbed to the top of Lookout Mountain than to have hiked up Lookout Hill.

For my 40^th Birthday, my friend Gina and I decided we would climb Camelback Mountain, which is technically in Scottsdale I think…at least partially.  Of the mountains in the Phoenix Metro area, it is the most famous and the most challenging and it generally where the beautiful people go to show how very outdoorsy they are and model the latest tech gear and tennis shoes.  When climbing Camelback, one must occasionally actually use hands and feet at times, but not to fear, hand rails have been installed…Yes, a mountain with handrails…This is not your Montana Mountain, people!  It is a Scottsdale, AZ mountain.  Only the best, no expense spared. The beautiful people of Scottsdale wouldn’t want to chip a nail or get their hands dirty. So, anyway, since my birthday is in August, and the temperature in Phoenix is about 10 degrees above Hella Hot in August, an early start is required. We arrived at the Mountain at about 6:30 am and the lot was almost full.  Lots of people making a push for the summit that day. The trail was packed.  A veritable smorgasbord of humanity. A fiesta of fashion and funkiness. Tall, small, fit, not so fit, young and old. Plenty of beautiful and a bit of not so much. Occasionally one could hear a foreign language being spoken.  My friend Gina and I momentarily considered making up a language to speak, just for fun.  Just to watch people’s reactions and to draw attention.  We learned very quickly that it is important to draw attention to oneself and to be hip, slick, and cool when conquering The Mountain. We thought a language with lots of clicking sounds would be neat.  All tribal like.  But we decided against it...too strenuous on the tongue, and instead we passed the time watching and listening to others as we hiked.

We were super lucky because the gals right in front of us on the trail were seasoned Scottsdale Mountaineers.   They, in their skin tight Spankies, sports bras, high pony tails, and sporty tennis shoes that likely cost about the same as a small sports car. Bouncing up the trail they went all perky and glistening, Fiji water in hand. Talking nonstop. Loudly so those around couldn't miss a word of their riveting conversation about where the best place to go for a Brazilian was or some other tantalizing topic.  And on we marched.  Lemmings, playing follow the leader until our lead Lemmings happened upon some friends that were on their way down.  They stopped momentarily, causing the rest of us to stop as well…narrow trail… but it’s ok we were happy to wait…we were in the presence of  Hikerlebrities after all…The friends seemed surprised to see our pack leaders and said “Wow…late start for you two!” to which our perfectly perfect pals loudly and proudly proclaimed, “Oh no, we are doing a double today”...Nice...  Doing a Double.  Super slick and hip. The badge of greatness on the Mountain, apparently.  And so, my point is made…Which point, you ask?  People, try to keep up...It isn’t a Mountain if Hiker Barbie and her friend Summiting Skipper can “do a double” in the span of about an hour and a half! I don't care how perky and fit they are.  Rome wasn't built in a day and Mountains aren't climbed twice in the time it takes to watch a movie! It is a hill. Just saying.

I am not a fan of doubles.  I had a full week of doing a double and didn’t care for it one bit.  I had a different sort of double...I had a week of double vision.  And double vision is not fun and not good exercise, not slick, hip, or cool. Not something I ever care to repeat.  I literally saw one of everything while sitting at my computer working one minute and then got up and in that instant, saw two.  Of everything. Not just kind of sort of in a cross eyed manner…literally two completely separate and distinct images.  Each eye creating its own private picture in my brain. It was weird and crazy and so bizarre that it was more a feeling of shock than fear.  I call April 11th 2013, the day double vision grabbed me, Double Day.  Although I am definitely not a fan of double vision, Double Day itself changed my life.  For the better. When I realized that my vision had doubled, I drove myself, one eye closed, to an urgent care facility.  The doctor ordered blood tests and sent me to the lab.  I suspected I may have had a mold exposure the day before or possibly that lazy eye I have had since birth had finally decided to get off the couch and do a bit of its own work.  To her credit, the Doc I saw was on it. Blood tests were followed by an MRI which was followed by an Ophthalmology appointment which was followed by a Neuro appointment which was followed by another MRI and a Spinal Tap.  I am not a fan of spinal taps, by the way.  More on that another day… When the dust settled and the tests had been completed, Double Day eventually led to diagnosis day. And diagnosis day meant the Monster had a name. But, even before the Monster had a name, I knew that I had a Monster and I knew I had to fight, and so the day after Double Day, before my diagnosis, before any test results of any kind, I joined the ranks.  I joined the ranks and became a practicing Wahls Warrior.

Double Day was actually Double Week.  The double vision lasted about a week.  A week was more than enough to get my attention, and just long enough for it to cost me plenty of money on special prism lenses in my glasses.  And then, my vision slowly started to merge back into one beautiful picture. Phew!  While I was so grateful for the glasses, I am so thankful not to have to use them. That week was really probably the extent of my diagnosing relapse, but because I also became a hard core Wahls Warrior, with AIP restrictions, I went through some pretty bad withdrawal and detox.  I am certain I would have been a perfect candidate for an intensive inpatient 40 day treatment program. But at the time, I didn’t even know it. I didn’t realize what was happening to my body.  I blamed the way I felt all on the Monster. And so I needed help. And people came.  My sister came and my friend Jennifer came and my Nephew Jason came.  And they took turns taking care of me and helping with the kids for over a month while I got clean and sober…sober from preservatives and chemicals and gluten and dairy and the whole host of things I was no longer ever going to eat again…ever.

Having read some of what my Facebook friends have shared, I feel incredibly lucky and blessed that not a single person in my life has ever questioned or challenged my lifestyle change.  Not even once. I am surrounded by people who wholeheartedly embrace the changes I have made and am continuing to make and many have even made some changes of their own as a result. I couldn't be more grateful for that. The support I had right from the start was phenomenal. 

And so during my detox period, I was sick as a dog, but I didn’t know why, so I blamed it all on the Monster. The saying "Sick as a Dog" dates back to the 17th Century and refers to the fact that dogs have no filter when it comes to eating...they will eat almost anything.  They will eat poop.  They don't care or don't know any better and so what they eat can make them extremely sick. Hmmm, looking back, I had actually been eating like a dog for years and years...not knowing or not caring that what I was ingesting was making me sick...super sick. But, during the detox, I thought I felt bad due to the Monster, I never even considered quitting or cheating. The worse I felt, the more the resolve.  Screw You Monster. I win, you lose.

Today, a little over 2 years since Double Day, I celebrate. I celebrate Double Day.  Because Double Day changed my life. For the Better. It is because of Double Day that I am a Wahls Warrior and I no longer eat like a dog and I am no longer sick as a dog. I feel better today than I did for the 10 years prior to Double Day. 

I turn 50 this August.  And maybe I will hike Camelback Mountain again for my 50^th.  And maybe this time, I’ll do a double.

Happy Hiking!