Counting Sheep

I took to the hills for a little R&R and an early morning, mountain climb. After driving over 500 miles and picking up my permit, I figured I’d get to the trailhead and crash. All went as planned till I went to fall asleep.

It was dark enough on the mountain to sleep at 8pm, but even though I was weary my mind simply wouldn’t shut down.

I read for a while and then watched part of a Mad Men episode on my iPod. I read for a while longer, took my blood pressure (too high) and then I listened to music. I had a couple of slices of leftover pizza from dinner and then I read some more. Each of these events was separated with me punching my pillow, closing my eyes, and stretching my legs out in the back of the minivan. I was comfortable enough, but I just could turn off my brain.

I thought about my climb in the morning, obsessing over what time to get up. I kept trying to calculate the time I’d need based on the stories of the climbers I’d met in the parking lot coming down from the summit. I thought about my job and wondering when I’d get my next paycheck and whether or not it would cover the monthly bills. I started thinking about what I could cut in my budget. I had conversations with friends, some with family, some with mortal enemies.

I went to bed at 8 and didn’t fall asleep until midnight. The four hours of sleep I got weren’t enough for a potential 12 hour day on the mountain. I ended up climbing only half as far as I’d planned. I could have gone further, but would have needed a friend.