The nervous system is a funny thing. It hasn’t kept up with the fast pace of human society. It’s still operating on good, old fight or flight: when something stressful comes your way, it’s either getting you ready to defend yourself or run away.
Less than two days before leaving for my trip, I’m not sure which way my body is leaning.
But butterflies have picked up the pace in my belly. My brain is going through a million things that it wants me to remember. I wasn’t sure I’d get my bike and my stuff in my bike box. (I did.) I’m still a little uncertain about getting the rest of my stuff in my big duffle bag. (I’m sure I’ll make it work.)
“Don’t forget your passport!”
“You still need to get all of that stuff out of the back of your car.”
“Make sure to do the dishes!”
There’s really not a ton left to do. But the immensity of the trip still triggers the fear of the unknown.
Tomorrow I’ll take care of some chores and run some errands. I have a training for my part-time job, which I’ll start when I get back from the trip. I’ll drop off my car.
And Friday? My Uber picks me up at 6:30 a.m. My biggest worry associated with that is maneuvering that bike box around. It’s bulky, and now it’s heavy with a bike and a bunch of camping and touring gear. Hopefully my Uber driver isn’t frail and can help me with it.
The butterflies don’t feel like they are flying in formation, but I know they are. They are flapping and fluttering around, but if you pause to see the pattern they are pulling me towards Canada. They’ll accompany me as I put my bike back together in Portland and through those first few days of pedaling in Canada. They’ll flap a little harder during experiences that are further outside of my comfort zone, but they’ll keep guiding me. Sometimes they’ll rest, sometimes they’ll pull me full throttle along with them.
Less than two days. I’m excited!