While recovering from a right hemicolectomy that, due to complications, became two major surgeries in seven days, I asked my surgeon when I could start lifting fifty pounds again. She said about six weeks. Lying in a hospital bed, drifting between doses of morphine and Dilaudid, I decided those six weeks should count for something.

So I went on a late-night online shopping spree at REI and spent about $3,000 on backpacking gear. By the time I had assembled everything I needed, the six weeks had passed. Soon after, my son and I headed out for a backpacking trip in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York.

It was only six weeks after major surgery, and the plan understandably worried my family. I took every precaution I could, including carrying an emergency GPS beacon. Still, the trip felt important. Life rarely offers perfect timing, and sometimes the best we can do is prepare carefully and step forward anyway.