Weekend Warriors

Several summers ago, Zane and I traveled to a climbing area called The Fins in Idaho to spend the weekend climbing and catching up with some of his old friends from the Red River Gorge. We camped on a grassy and wild-flower-filled plateau, and enjoyed the proximity to the limestone cliff line. Sitting around the campfire in the evening, his old friends recalled stories of their international climbing trips. They fondly shared memories of their experience going to the 'fish fry' near Rocklands, scootering around Greece and befriending locals, and of the cheap and delicious food. What stuck with me most was one of his friends, Spencer, saying: "There is never a good time; you just need to go." 

At this point, Zane and I were climbing a lot outdoors. Our work schedule aligned, and we often had 3-4 day weekends, so we climbed in and around Utah, Nevada, and Wyoming almost every week. So much of this local climbing was still new to us, and we had much to experience and explore close to home. We spent many days camping out of Zane's Honda CRV '98 and sleeping on old, soft crash pads. We maintained this lifestyle from 2016 until about the spring of 2020.

 

Pictured: Climbing in the Fins, Idaho; Wild Iris, Wyoming; and American Fork, Utah

Climbing is a lifestyle sport. Over the years, I have met many climbers prioritizing the sport and travel above all else. Many of our friends or acquaintances have spent years climbing and living out of their vehicle or traveling abroad. They work remotely, seasonally, within the climbing industry, or live off their funds to maintain this lifestyle. This formula never made sense to me as I have always valued my work and career as a nurse. I did not want to quit a job I loved just for an extended climbing trip, nor did I necessarily have the means to do so. Yet, I often longed for more than our 'weekend warrior' setup, at least for a period. But for years, it was just that, a dream. 

  In a way, I am part of two communities on different sides of the spectrum regarding lifestyle. One is climbing, which has a subculture of nomads. The second being medicine. I have worked alongside residents who endure a grueling schedule with limited flexibility. While nursing is thankfully much more flexible than most other areas in healthcare, I still found myself scheduling "workarounds" for my time off or stacking a lot of hours before and after more extended periods off, being unable to request specific time frames off, constantly monitoring my PTO, and accepting that I could not request more than about three weeks off. 

Spencer's words stuck with us, and in January 2020, Zane and I pulled the trigger and booked flights and accommodations for a 6-week climbing trip to Spain for the fall of 2020. I was working full-time and nervously asked my boss for a personal leave of absence, to which she immediately said yes. I found the courage to ask for time off after reading blog posts written by a female doctor and a climber who shared various experiences of her sabbaticals. Notably, one of her climbing sabbaticals required her to request and take a year off from medical school. The worst-case scenario is that the answer is a "no." I had never considered these negotiations an option within my profession. Her experiences made me reconsider my notions about career constructs, especially in medicine. Again, there "is never a good time; you just need to go." Of course, we did not go on this trip due to the COVID-19 pandemic. 

The COVID-19 pandemic and lockdown heightened our desire and urgency to travel when able. Not having the autonomy to travel was eye-opening. Our planned trip to Spain was the first time we committed to a more extensive trip after years of local climbing, and we had to put it on hold. 

The COVID-19 pandemic also shaped my climbing in unexpected ways. When gyms were shut down, and we were scarcely climbing outside, Zane built a home hang board structure for our apartment. This was the first time we seriously began training for climbing, which added extra motivation for future trips. Given the additional training, we felt much more prepared when we went on climbing trips. 

• • • 

Eventually, we decided to go on a bigger trip after I graduated from nurse practitioner school. Transitionary times between jobs or career changes are the most logical time frames for significant time off. Yet, I had a lot of doubts internally (and some externally). I feared a career gap looking like a "red flag" on a resume. I feared not having a paycheck, health insurance, or other benefits. I feared becoming weaker once I only climbed outside again and no longer trained. 

Despite my apprehensions, I decided that taking time to travel, climb, and explore other areas of life outside of nursing and my career was one of my biggest goals and dreams. While there is "never a good time," taking time off before stepping into a new job is as good as it gets. Finally, I felt more financially prepared after working full-time for nine years and living a relatively frugal lifestyle. The limited financial obligation also helped as we do not have a house or kids. 

• • • 

Sabbaticals are also an opportunity for rest, slowing down, self-discovery, and personal growth. Rest felt essential as a burned-out bedside nurse. I worked full-time while in full-time school for 50% off tuition, benefits, savings, and continued connections in my field. Before starting graduate school, I also worked mandatory overtime during the pandemic, often in a locked-down COVID ICU. I have always loved bedside nursing; despite that, it felt like the burnout caught up with me later than most, though I did feel its effects on my career during the last year or two. 

Nursing also offered a unique life perspective, further contributing to my decision to take a gap year. I have taken care of middle-aged patients in the emergency department and oncology ICU facing a new cancer diagnosis. I have taken care of adolescents and young adults with severe traumatic brain injury, paralysis, or other trauma after motor vehicle injury or sports-related accidents. One of my patients went outside in the winter to help a neighbor shovel, was hit in the head by an icicle, and ultimately lost his life. No day on earth is a given; living with intention is imperative. Physical and mental well-being in retirement is certainly not a given. 

As I neared graduation, more of my clinical preceptors and faculty began asking me what I was doing next. I was initially nervous about sharing my plans, so it was encouraging to hear them eagerly support the gap year. They instilled faith that it should not be a deterrent when I am ready to look for my first NP job. Planning and committing to a sabbatical takes organization, motivation, and self-awareness, all potential assets to my future employment.

Many phases in my career, climbing, and life leading up to this trip shaped this decision. Over the years, I have found motivation to finally pursue this dream from climbers, friends, family, bloggers/social media, my partner, and within myself. I am beyond excited to be beginning this journey.