I didn’t see any tools or machines…I just saw a tree. I didn’t see a pedometer. I didn’t see a treadmill. My body didn’t do a prescribed motion. I just saw a tree. I saw branches. I wondered if I could leap to the branch. Could I get both hands on the branch? Could I get my feet on the trunk and could I get on top of the branch? I tried a couple of times and I failed. I leapt and didn’t succeed. I tried again and again until I could reach and get a hold and move my body into the tree. I got a hold and then I had to move from under the branch to above the branch…swing from left to right until I could swing around and get an arm above the branch or up onto another. I swung and then got a hold. Then I was into the tree. Around the trunk and up again. Up as far as I could go and then back down the way I came. A jump to the ground and then backup again until I could do it with just a couple movements. Then, I sprinted to the next tree. This time a vault and then a climb.
Each tree is different. Each tree is not predictable, but my body is learning how to move from tree to tree. I know what I can reach. I know what is safe. At the same time, I am getting more and more fit. I am getting healthier and my body is getting to move in natural ways. Lifting weights has its place. It’s more of a restorative place…it’s not my end game. It’s a path to rehabilitation. Being able to move through natural terrain is my end game.