my decision: this can't wait for the Day 2 post

Adding captions and commentary to the Day 1 walk post, for this past weekend's walk, literally took me all day, so I haven't even started the Day 2 post yet. Instead, this is a separate post focusing solely on my decision to either do the walk this year (Busan to Andong, 400K including motels that sit away from the main path, which is 385K). I thought long and hard about this, and I assiduously did quite a few practice walks, first to build up to being able to do long-distance walks again, then to show how well I could endure full-scale walks.

As you might imagine, I've discovered that I've improved a lot since leaving the hospital in late August. I've tried to keep my weight down (with the goal of getting it down further), and overall, I think my heart is capable of enduring the sort of long-distance walking that I've done up to now. That being said, I'm disappointed in how much I've slowed down as a combined result of the 2021 stroke and this year's surprise heart attack, and I don't seem to have made much of an improvement on that score.

There's also the matter of hills and intense activity. I still haven't tested myself on my building's staircase yet. You may recall that I had originally set a goal of doing the entire staircase (B1 to 26 without stopping) as one standard for determining whether I was ready for this Nakdong River trek. I then lowered the standard to doing a half-staircase (B1 to 14 without stopping) because I'd realized I could tackle huge hills simply by stopping several times. I'd promised to do a final staircase test before declaring myself, but if I'm honest, I must confess I haven't done the test yet. And here we are, at decision time.

I've decided, despite not having stair-tested myself yet, to do the walk as planned. Let me give you my reasons. 

First, it's not because I'm suicidal. I have no death wish, but I realize there's a chance I might conk out on the path and die from lack of immediate help. That said, (1) it's a risk I'm willing to take, and (2) if I die, I'll do so while doing something I've come to love. These days, there's little that's more meaningful in my life than distance walking as far as cherished activities go. I'm not comparing walking to the people who matter most to me—how would I even begin to do that? It's an apples-to-oranges comparison, meaningless and useless. But in terms of activities, distance walking like this, once a year, is at or near the top of my list of best, most awesome things to do. Life simplifies itself and comes into focus on these walks.

Second, it's almost prescient how I'd constructed this walk (pre-heart attack). The calendar shows twenty days, i.e., almost three weeks, but fully six of those days are rest days. This means I took what was basically a short, two-week walk and expanded it by almost a week, padding the calendar with plenty of rest days (my rule for inserting a rest day is whether I've walked 30K or more during a given segment; if yes, then I add a rest day, with very few exceptions). It's almost as if I'd planned for a heart attack. Weird and creepy, but most assuredly beneficial as I'm huffing and puffing across the country.

Third, despite my not having done the final staircase test, I've walked several hills during my practice walks from late August to now, including the little bitch of a hill I did this past Sunday—which, as predicted, required several stops. But there was no angina the entire time, so I'm confident the trauma/ER team Roto-Rootered my coronary artery, and it's clear. I do have to be careful about my other, partial blockages, though. The doc had said they're at 30% as of the last check, but another doc had also said that severe blockages can form fast, which may be the greatest risk during this walk if I insist on drinking regular soda and eating a bunch of carby shit. Such an assault on my system would nullify the salutary effects of my prescribed meds, so it's important for me to be on my best behavior and to indulge myself not merely infrequently but rarely. Those are the risks, and I still think I'll survive the walk just fine. At some point, you have to take a read of your own body, make your judgments, and commit to action. The prospect of dropping dead doesn't scare me, but I'd feel sorry for whoever finds my body.

Fourth, I've come to realize that, if I feel a problem begin to mount (e.g., the return of angina, severe foot pain, etc.), I can always quit en chemin. There's nothing stopping me from stopping if need be. If I do end up quitting in medias res, I won't feel ashamed. Not this year, anyway. In later years, though, I might have to crawl under a rock.

Fifth—and you knew this was coming—I'm walking because I'm a stubborn son of a bitch. I love the activity too much to let it go, and there's a chance this might be my final walk, so why the hell not get off my ass and get out there? I also feel as if the Grim Reaper has thrown down the gauntlet, and this is my chance to laugh in the face of death. The Reaper gets everyone in the end, but as with Syrio Forel, this is a chance for me to say, Not today.

Whether you agree or disagree with my reasoning, I'm going walking next week. Stick around and follow the posts, look at the photos, and leave comments. Enjoy my trip. I'll be back on November 4, in time for the crazy 11/5 US election and all the violence that's going to erupt. I need to be alive to see all that chaos and weeping and gnashing of teeth and accusations of cheating. And I've got to plan my trip to the States (and maybe to France) next year.