I took a picture of myself right before a run. Upon returning and looking at the image, I realized the thin beard, earbuds, and hat made me resemble the actor from 127 Hours. That movie recounted the harrowing experience of Aron Ralston.
During a particular climb down a slot canyon, Ralston rolled a boulder onto his hand, crushing it, shackling him out of sight in a stone prison. No one knew he was there. After days of failed escape attempts, he came to the grim conclusion that he either amputate or die from dehydration and exposure. The surgery was performed with a dull penknife.
Friends of mine have visited this now famous location. Looking at the boulder and the depth of the canyon, they wondered how Ralston survived at all.
Seeing that photo of myself reminded me that whenever I go out to some far-flung place, always let someone know where I am going. That was one of Ralston’s major mistakes. If no one knows I am out there, people will only wonder why I am not returning phone calls. They certainly won’t be searching for me in some deep slot canyon, in the middle nowhere.
I always make sure my knife is sharp, too.