Conquering Limits at 40

Nicholas J Parkinson
6 min readMay 2, 2022

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How a shattered knee can teach us lessons about love, our abilities, and gratitude.

Early in the morning on a bright day in April in the eastern suburbs of Santiago, a 16-year-old girl jumped out of her mother’s car to run into school. Like any other day, her mother dropped her off on the right side of the road, and the girl crossed the street using the ‘zebra stripes’, as they are called in Chile. Just as she crossed the road, a taxi driver barreled through the neighborhood. Blinded by the low sun of the early morning, he struck her at 50 kilometers per hour (30mph). The taxi’s front bumper smashed into her right knee and the collision sent her flying, into the pavement several meters ahead.

Her mother watched the scene with horror. For those who have children, this must be one of the most difficult episodes to imagine: your daughter, still a child, mowed down in front of her school by a careless driver. Losing a child this way would be devastating. Surviving it is surely what we would call a life-changing event.

When Ignacia and I met, I did not learn about this event right away. For one of our first romantic getaways in 2012, we traveled to Valle de Elqui, a stunning desert gorge trapped in the northern Andes. From the little house where we stayed, we decided to go on a hike. We chose a route and followed narrow game paths across a slope to a small canyon. As we crossed the mountain, it was clear that something was off about her ability to hike. She told me the whole story, how her knee was reconstructed, the years of physical therapy, the physical pain, and facing life with these restrictions. After several hours, we got off the mountain. She had a swollen knee.

I callously wondered if I could marry a woman with limited mobility. By then, rock climbing was central to my life. Backpacking in faraway mountain ranges was one of my favorite hobbies. Skiing and snowboarding were my family’s winter activities. And hiking was normal, like watching the game on TV. I faced an internal struggle to reconcile my love for these outdoor activities with her love for nature yet inability to enjoy it how I do. Gradually, I realized that my perception no longer mattered. The ‘aha moment’ came when I realized that the accident was likely responsible for creating the person that I was falling in love with, and that when you fall in love, you must love all of it.

The accident may have taken her ability to move swiftly through rough terrain, but it had another effect on her. The jolt and power of the impact affected her sensory system, from the brain to the spinal cord and all the neurons in between. She doesn’t have the quickest reaction time and is scared to death of balls flying toward her at any speed, but she gained something few of us have. Her senses are on another level. Her smelling, hearing, and taste have been enhanced. It’s as if we were all one version of homo sapiens, but she got a sensory upgrade. Homo sapiens 2.0.

In our nearly 9 years of marriage, I’ve learned that Ignacia’s memory is not the sharpest (following the accident she memorized entire albums to practice memory). Since then, her way of viewing the situations of life is atypical. Maybe because of a short-term memory, she has learned to let go and hold no grudges. This is a novel approach to the highly touted yet difficult to implement living in the now, she embraces it. It rubs off and it makes our family kinder. It helps us all focus on each other, on how to improve, and manage our emotions.

For this, however, sacrifices were made. It would seem impossible to climb the Andes mountains in her backyard, looming over Santiago. In fact, she never even considered it. She never had the opportunity to go trekking in Torres de Paine, Chile’s most famous national park. Over the years, she found ways to decrease the pain and increase movement. Hot yoga helped her to reduce pain and make substantial improvements in mobility. She studied Ayurvedic medicine. She learned meditation. Throughout, she has always loved nature but could not fully immerse herself and her senses, which is ironic considering her intense sensory abilities.

When we moved to Moab in 2020, we spent more time cycling and hiking than in Bogota. Here, we are surrounded by natural beauty, and there are several ways to experience it. Together, we have hiked dozens of trails, done several canyoneering routes, and spent multiple days floating in a canoe in the backcountry.

This year, she achieved an unexpected goal when one of my 4-day Canyonlands backpacking adventure fell through. After two years in Moab, she could embrace the idea of backpacking. She adopted a short training regime, including cycling and hiking. We prepared for the many possibilities of a failed knee, such as me carrying two backpacks, and the chance to return to the car on any of the four days. In the days leading up to the trip, the anxiety was palpable, sustained by 20 years of doubting whether she could ever put that much weight on her back and carry it all for 25+ miles.

In April, we started our Needles trek at Elephant Hill and descended deep into the heart of Canyonland’s Needles District. She carried her own gear, her food, and her water. She never balked at drinking grimy water from rock seeps, carried out her waste, and never complained one single time. She completed the original itinerary, and when it was over, she asked for more. She displayed courage, and I could not be prouder! The long journey from the swollen knee in the Andes to a woman backpacking through Canyonlands was complete, and it all happened just a couple weeks before her 40th birthday.

Forty years is one of life’s halfway markers, and for her birthday, we are floating down the Colorado river, which is a perfect metaphor for aging. As she counts the layers of sediment and sees the effects of erosion, she will surely ponder her first 40 years and recall how one day crossing the street can change you forever.

Today, she has so much to celebrate, a husband who sees and accepts her for exactly who she is, a home surrounded by natural wonders and thriving ecosystems, and a healthy body. Today, she celebrates her personal journey, where instead of concentrating on what she could not do, she concentrated on what she could; instead of hating her knee, she is grateful to have one that works.

The next 40 years will be spent wandering through some of the most beautiful places on this planet!

Te amo, mi vida!

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To read more about Ignacia, my talented and nurturing wife, check out this post here or this post here.

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Nicholas J Parkinson

NGO writer and family man currently trying the settled life in small town on the Colorado River