Sheltered Lands

Ten years before my fiftieth birthday, I hatched a plan.  I wanted to reward myself for reaching that iconic milestone.  The way things were lining up, fifty would be the year I wrote my last tuition check for my daughters’ educations.   Supposing I’d still be in good health, I started dreaming of a sabbatical as a reward for the sacrifices my wife and I made while rearing two delightful children.   Through all the iterations of those dreams, one thing remained constant… the sabbatical would involve one of my very favorite activities: travel .   A Kerouacian road trip, perhaps.   Or a hike up the Pacific Coast Trail.   Or a voyage down to Antarctica.   Through the years, other reasons began to emerge that started fueling the need for a sabbatical.  Most notably, work.  Recently, my company has been on a magical tear – one of the finest ten year stretches in the company’s 167 year history.  Heavy growth has nearly tripled our ...

At 51, I’m by far the youngest patient in the Cardiac Rehab center.  The next closest in age, I’m guessing, is late 60s.  And by far , I’m working the hardest.  I’m burning 518 calories-per-hour on my fast moving treadmill set at a 7% incline, and it’s been at this pace non-stop for 40 minutes.  I’m here in pursuit of one goal: to gain confidence.  In a little over a month, I’ll embark upon a 3 ½ week sabbatical which will involve 7,200 miles of travel by car, kayak, and airplane to four different states and - more importantly – will include 35 miles of hiking.  I need this time in rehab to build confidence; to show myself and other interested parties that my recovering heart can handle the upcoming hiking stress.  Last December, in the biggest shocker of my life, I suffered a myocardial infarction - a stinking heart attack.  Luckily, I reacted promptly to the elephant sitting on my chest and received excellent medical care utilizing the...