5 Days to Go: The Final Countdown, Red Rock Peace, and The Last Class
It is early Friday morning. The canyon is pitch-black, dead quiet, and sharply chilly. Inside our one room cozy home, the air has that crisp autumn bite, and Rindo is curled up in the chair beside me, snoring rhythmically with not a single worry in her sweet head.
Five days left. Time has warped into an impossible paradox: it is moving terrifyingly fast and not nearly fast enough.
If I’m being completely honest, there is a quiet, guarded room in my mind where I still haven’t fully accepted that this surgery is actually going to happen. It feels surreal to say it out loud, but until that final green light is locked in, part of me refuses to lean all the way in. My brain is clinging to the lingering question mark of my sodium levels. I’ve made the call to push the re-test to first thing on Monday morning, giving us this time to enjoy the peace and quiet. Until that lab result pops into my portal, I am holding my breath.
Until then, the only sane choice is to soak up every single second out here.
Yesterday was slow, gentle, and unhurried. We spent the chilly morning hours tucked inside, clearing out computer work and waiting for the sun to crest the red canyon walls. Once the air warmed, our day revolved around Rindo. We took her on short jaunts around the campground loops, getting our bearings and scouting the limestone trails; mapping which paths she can handle, which ones Matt and I might tackle later, and maybe a few steeper ridges I’ll take on solo.
Looking at our little traveling circus, you have to laugh. We are quite the trio right now: Rindo with her sore front shoulders and unstable back hips; Matt nursing a stubborn, aching hip and a sore shoulder in recovery; and me and my collapsing spine. We have our fair share of creaks and aches between us, but we are still out here on the dirt, enjoying what we can do, right now.
Today, the cameras will come out.
I’m filming what will be my final yoga class before surgery. Stepping onto the mat today carries a heavy, sacred weight. I don’t know exactly what my range of motion, my strength, or my spine will look like when I finally unroll a mat on the other side of this reconstruction. All I know is how to meet my body exactly where it is right now, and to enjoy the range of motion that I still have.
Alongside that practice, we’ll record a quick, grounded update for Instagram: sharing the official surgical dates, pointing people toward the raw, daily pages of my Erin’s Corner blog, and letting our wider community know where my head and heart are as the countdown narrows.
On Sunday, our journey loops back toward Denver, squeezed tight with a lunch stop to see Kelly before we lock in 100% on Monday. But right now, the light is just beginning to graze the canyon rim.
Matt is waking up, Rindo is shifting in her chair, and there is one more class waiting to be taught. Five days out. We are still moving.
