Today was a tough day. I had a total brain blank 10 miles into the day and went in the wrong direction after missing a turn, causing me to do a big climb twice. I was near tears because I couldn’t “see” the map. Even Google audio prompts didn’t make sense. I started to panic and then just shut down. A man in a BMW pulled up to me while I was in the bike lane parked against the curb, and ripped into me. His timing couldn’t have been worse. I went 3+ miles off course in steep terrain, with no leg juice left, on what was supposed to be a 38-mile day.
A little background would help here; I had a craniotomy to remove a brain tumor 12 years ago and, as a result, have brain damage, my “executive skill set” took a hit. One of the challenges I have now is I can’t read maps. I look at a map, but I can’t absorb and process it correctly. It’s like trying to read kanji. To decipher a map I have to patiently break it down into digestible pieces. If I’m tired, multitasking, or already confused about something, I can’t even do that.
Yesterday it was very hot, hilly, with aggressive drivers and traffic. L.A. was a breeze in comparison. My brain was completely overloaded, and the twists and turns that the ACA map takes through La Jolla was challenging.
I just tried to let it be, adjusted by shortening the day. Luckily I found a place in striking distance that was affordable, albeit an expensive resort campground. Four pools, jacuzzi, laundry, hot “free” showers, electricity, and water. I felt so fragile when I pulled up, the counter guy was super sweet and helpful, and that helped change the air around me.
The brain blank was scary, emotional, and a little concerning. But, this is just how Houston is. (My brain’s nickname is Houston, as in “Houston we have a problem”.)
As a former backcountry ranger who regularly relied on maps, it can be an emotionally tough blow at times because I used to do it with such ease. In the past when I looked at a topo map I saw a three-dimensional world come to life.
I need to remember on this trip to sit quietly and go slowly in tiny steps and try to break down the map. Today there were a lot of weird turns and detours through La Jolla, which, by the way, is NOT on my potential desirable places to live list. It’s a hell realm. Yuck.
Fortunately, the trip doesn’t have a lot of tricky navigation or obviously I couldn’t do it. Today was just a reminder that 1. Houston will be Houston; respect that and adjust accordingly. 2. I’m not in stellar shape; accept that and be patient as it improves. The bottom line is I need to be patient, more compassionate and have more realistic expectations.
It wasn’t all bad, pedaled through some beautiful coastal areas and someone pointed out the famous San Diego dog beach. Enjoyed watching the furry sisters racing around and frolicking in the water. Bodhi and Dory individually made some new buddies.
And I got to soak in the jacuzzi (yahoo!) with a woman and man with green hair who had enough tats and piercings to make a metal detector explode.
There’s always a silver lining
Debating about whether or not to go to the border, so close. But, part of me is afraid I’ll just want to cross and start pedaling. The urge to go south is REALLY strong. But today was a wake up call that I need to be more realistic and go slowly, stay within my safety zone, sort of ish.