Filthy, Fat, Fifty and Back in the Hole!

Filthy, Fat, Fifty and Back in the Hole!

Not metaphorically this time. Though if we’re being honest, also metaphorically. After nearly five years sidelined by carpal tunnel, bad habits, career changes, middle age, work stress and enough excuses to pave I-5, I found myself wondering if the mountain still remembered me.

But hobbies are fickle things; they tend to get-in-where-they-fit-in. Passions, on the other hand, care very little about my knee pain, cholesterol, employment history or carefully curated excuses. There’s something refreshingly honest about caving in that regard. Gravity still works. Mud is still slippery. And underground, nobody gives a damn about your LinkedIn profile.

In the time it’s been since I sat down to write about this, or anything somebody besides Google’s search crawler might actually read, the maelstrom of life kept spinning. Career changes, injuries, middle age, funerals, inflation, stress and the general realization that the human body is apparently a temporary arrangement of spite and cartilage.

But I’ve missed the centering of mind that caving brought me and how it challenged me to sharpen the better parts of who I am and focused me on who I want to be. It’s been a long time coming… but I’m back to being me. Mostly. Well, my warranty isn’t redeemable, but my dirty black soul might be.

When we left off last, I was prepping to expand this adventure blog to include video posts featuring my chums as we crawled up the butthole of whatever volcano we though deserved defiling. But there was a hitch that hit quickly: the government changed its permitting process and every scrap of punk rock left in my heart demanded that I do the adult thing and “decline to participate.” So it was that with what I once described as “life’s perfect storm” gaining complexity around me, I walked away.

I’ve put on thirty pounds in my return to the cubicle mouse lifestyle and the only caving I see is broadcast on YouTube. A few months back, I realized that my anger for that fact was rooted more in jealousy than any ill will. And this summer, that’s going to change.

Come July, Steve and I are going to invade Big Lava Bed for two days to “explore like a couple of old guys” as he says. Yes, I’ll have words and pictures and video to share, alongside a low carb friendly breakdown of how I leveraged the trip to prove I’m not a glutton.

But I also have a few key motivators added to my mindset. I did turn fifty last year and while my mind desires to deny the entropy that age brings and my body would like to join in the delusion of anti-morality, I am keenly aware that my physical limitations aren’t going to get any better. Not unless I manage things better than I have, and if I do, I can at least guide myself into an extended glide path down as I age.

And that’s of paramount concern to me: I have to keep up with the grandson we were blessed with just two years ago. And while I am unable to subjectively tell if he’s just “high energy” or if I am just “slow and broken”, I know that I want to be a more active part in his life than allowing my heart to blow out in the next decade will grant me. We all deserve better and this is my launch pad to that future.

I have roughly months until we set out. I wonder what I can do in that time to get some of this fat-man suit off me beforehand?

Let's see....

~ZB

** The preceding words are a record of my personal journey and are not intended to replace or circumvent any recommend guidance provided by your health care provider. Before starting any life changing endeavor, such as a diet and/or exercise regimen, please start by having an honest conversation with your doctor. Links and references to products and services are unaffiliated - I don't make a dime from this blog. Don't be stupid - always be over prepared and never hike or cave alone. Oh and please don't ask for cave locations. Believe me, if I can find them, so can you. Yes, the picures are AI generated, but the words are all me **