Fight or Flight
I don’t know how I heard about it, but somehow I started following and watching a movement called 1000 hours outside (https://www.1000hoursoutside.com/). The basic premise is to replace screen time with green time. After observing other people’s adventures for a year or two we finally decided, as a family, to take the plunge and commit to the challenge for the year 2023. I am proud to say that we fulfilled our goal! We hit our thousandth hour on December 31st, 2023. The year was full of many adventures; the following story is merely one of them.
We started 2023 strong- averaging two hours a day in the dead of winter. We became very experienced at bundling and always had our outdoor gear on hand in case we came across opportunities to be outside. When March and April hit we were so ready and excited for warmer weather.
One day I set up a playdate with a friend and her six children to get outdoors. She had warned me about the spring run off and suggested that we not go to a place with water. I figured we would be fine if we went to a local park, that we had visited recently, instead of heading into the mountains (where I was positive the run off was treacherous) as we had originally planned. My children were ready to play in the stream and I didn’t want to disappoint them. When we got there I realized that my friend was right, playing in the water was not such a great idea after all. The small stream we usually played in (and had visited just the week before) had started to look more like a river. The water, which on previous visits was up to my children’s calves, was suddenly up to their waists and nearly pouring over the edge of the bank. After seeing the height and the strength of the stream, my friend and I decided to allow only the “big kids” to play in it and send the little ones off to the playground. We stood talking on the bank keeping a close eye on the kids. The kids quickly realized that playing in the water wasn’t the best idea so they decided to make and race boats instead. Periodically they would wade into the water to grab their boats, but they weren’t playing in it very much.
Now, before I go on I feel like I need to explain myself. I’d like to think that my children will never get hurt while I am watching them. That being said, I would like to raise children who are able to assess their own risks. I want them to climb trees, explore, and get scrapes. I believe it’s good for them to have unfettered time away from stringent rules, dictated schedules, predictability, and parents telling them constantly what they can and can’t do. That’s one of the reasons we head to the wilderness. I have a shirt that says, “Head to the mountains, and hope you don’t get eaten by bears.” Being in nature is not always 100% “safe.” As humans we have to take calculated risks every day. I try to give limited commands, but I do give them when I need to keep them from something dangerous. I was naive when it came to this particular stream. When all is said and done we all rely on God to help us provide and protect and enrich our lives. Keep that in mind please as I tell you the rest of this story.
The children were happily playing in the stream when suddenly Liz’s shoe was swept right off her feet and started heading downstream. “My shoe!” she screamed, even as her other shoe slipped off the other foot and followed the first. Instantly I knew we were in trouble. I know this kiddo enough to realize what she’d intend to do.
My friend and I were on the opposite bank from Liz. As soon as I saw what happened I yelled to her, “Stop! Don’t get it!” Any parenting book will tell you to never, ever communicate in negatives. Here’s what they’ll hear if you do, “…Go get it!” The second my words left my mouth I knew I had made a horrible mistake.
In a moment all unraveled. Liz took off running for her shoes on the far bank. Anticipating her response, I also took off running downstream to head off my teeny ten year old. My body went into full mama bear mode. I imagined my daughter being swept downstream and not being able to get to her. I kept yelling across the bank for her to “stop” but she kept running; so did I.
The place where the kiddos were playing was not too treacherous- swift, yes, but not treacherous. Further downstream, however, the water picked up a lot of speed as it went over a series of small falls. I knew that if my beautiful daughter tried to run into the water she’d be swept off her feet and it would be difficult to get to her. We were both running parallel but I couldn’t get across to the other bank to grab her. There was a clump of trees and bushes lining the river a few feet in front of me. My line of sight would soon be blocked. If I ran past the trees to the nearest clearing it might be too late to get to Liz before she did something dangerous. Right before the foliage was a path directly to the water. I decided, in a moment of pure motherly insanity (and a good dose of adrenalin), that if I went after her shoe, Liz would be safe. I was wearing good water shoes that I was confident in, and I knew that my hundred-mumble pounds would be harder to trip up than her sixty-ish pounds. So, I ran full speed into the white water. I made it halfway across before the raging river swept my feet out from under me. I hit the rocks on the riverbed with my hands and knees and continued to crawl and reach for Liz’s shoe while being pushed along downstream. That’s when I went over the first of the falls.
Don’t be fooled, these photos were taken a year later (this week, April 2024). The water is not as high as it was when this story took place in April of 2023. We went back when it was dry and saw the distinct layers I had fell down. The arrows show the route I took.
It took me by surprise. I didn’t actually realize that farther down was a cascade of smallish falls. I went over the first one on my hands and knees. As soon as I recovered my balance, I went over two more. All the while the shoe was within my reach and no matter what I did I wasn’t able to get to it. After getting a thorough beating from slamming multiple times onto the rocks, I decided simply to reach the other bank and to grab my child. I was honestly afraid for my life. The current was taking me downstream fast, and I knew that my injuries were already pretty serious. I was able to dig my fingers into the river rocks and claw my way to the other bank. As soon as I grabbed onto the side, I yelled for Liz who was just racing past. If I could just grab her, I could stop the pursuit.
This time remembering to command without a negative I yelled as loudly as I could over the sound of the water, “Liz! Stop! Leave it! Stop!” Thankfully, she heard me and came to where I was. It was only then that she realized that I had jumped in. I grabbed her hand and told her that the water was treacherous and would sweep her teeny body away. I was lucky to make it out. I would buy her new shoes but I didn’t want her to go after them.
We walked back to where my friend was and the rest of the kiddos. My dear friend who came on this adventure was almost full-term pregnant and feeling helpless as she watched me tumble down river. I was still super hyped up on adrenalin and didn’t realize how injured I truly was. We proceeded to pack up our stuff and head home. I felt like a complete and utter idiot. Not only had I run into a running stream, but I had also failed to retrieve the shoe! And the scene had attracted all kinds of onlookers. Thankfully, someone had seen what had happened, followed the shoe down the stream, and fished it out with a tree branch. Now here I was trying desperately to act like all was fine, after looking death in the face, as I gathered my kiddos and packed the car.
Once in the car the adrenalin started to wear off and I was suddenly in a lot of pain and feeling very emotional. We called Ben who was out of town for a rehearsal and relayed to him the events of the past hour as we drove home. As I was telling him and reliving it I started shaking and crying. Yeah… turns out I was likely going into a bit of shock. Thankfully we made it home and I was able to shower and get bandages on my wounds. Ben offered to come straight home but I insisted that I had everything under control.
When Ben arrived the next morning, he noticed that one of my fingers wasn’t moving and insisted on taking me to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, the doctors and nurses asked “what happened? Knee surgery?” I couldn’t help but duck my head in shame. Ben (being the amazing hubby that he is) bragged to all the nurses and doctors that I had run into a river to rescue a child. He proceeded to tell anyone who would listen about my daring feat. All the nurses treated me like a hero. All the while I was trying hard not to tell them the whole story about my ridiculous fight-or-flight overreaction.
I had severe bruising and swelling but nothing broken on my legs. My finger, however, was a bit more damaged. The way I had gripped the rocks against the current had hyperextended my finger and broken a small piece of bone off. I was put in a finger splint and mostly stayed off my legs for a month.
For a solid month afterward I replayed the moment over and over in my mind… and out loud to my ever patient hubby. “What should I have done? Why did I jump in like a crazy person? I could have killed myself! The situation was not yet dire enough for that kind of action.” The conclusion that we came to is this – I had an overactive fight or flight response which turned me into a raging mama bear desperately trying to protect my cub. To be fair though, I asked Liz what was going on in her head and she did admit that she was going to try to get close enough to grab the shoe. What if she fell in?! So… I don’t know how else I could have ensured her safety. I also decided to not let that taint my perspective of being out in the beauties of nature.
Moral of the story is: Get outside! Just don’t get eaten by bears… or get washed down a stream.
