Here is what I wrote in my diary July 20, 2010.
I have been in severe pain every day since i came back from the mountains 3 weeks ago. Basically the pain starts at 2 or 3 in the morning and goes for 12 to 14 hours.
I’m not sure how long I can sit here today as I have pain just from sitting.
Oh. And, I ran out of money today. out of money today.
I’m not sure what the fuck to do with my life.
I’m going to go and read.
It was just 32 days till I hit the wall.
I pulled my Oldsmobile into a parking space in the lower parking lot at Heritage Park. I prefered this older dirt lot as the new, paved upper lot was often crowded and stifling hot in the July sun. This one offered ready access to the walking path besides Glenmore Reservoir. I scrambled up a path beside the giant H sign which stood at the entrance to Heritage Park for decades. I walked south on the paved surface. The reservoir’s waters, to my right, reflected the sun as an intense, blinding, silver ball of fire. I heard the shrill tinkle of a bicycle bell behind me. It made me jumpy. Three cyclists whizzed past on my left at what seemed like 80 kilometers an hour. Their passing stirred a faint breeze that brought some relief from the heat of the sun.
Soccer moms walked side by side entranced by the significance of their conversations. They pushed extra fancy strollers bedecked with all manner of paraphenelia which I did not recognize. Occasional in-line skaters would whisk by mostly without warning. Some courteously said when approaching, “on your left.” Finally I reached the pathway to Glenmore Landing. Nothing I want there, I thought. So, I turned around and went back.
After 15 minutes of walking I reached the big H sign. I decided to carry on. I thought I might sit on the outdoor patio at the restaurant. I heard the distinctive ring of the street car. I looked to my right. The street car was going towards the its stop next to the old train station. I snapped a picture of the car. The street car tracks crossed the pedestrian path on which I was walking. I crossed the tracks about 5 minutes after the street car had passed. By then I could easily see the outdoor patio at the restaurant. It was full, full, full. Disappointed I turned around. Go home. I feel discouraged and depressed anyway.
I scrambeled down the path to my car. Got in. Started it. Drove home. Up fourteenth street. Taking the off ramp to Glenmore. Driving to thirty seventh street. Air conditioning on. Lost in my depressed thoughts.
It was 32 days till I hit the wall.
An exerpt from CRASH! Memories of an Healing Journey, Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Rights Reserved