​I'm lying in my sleepingbag looking out of the tent opening. Waiting for the sun's warm rays to hit and dry up the night's dewdrops. In the awning is a coffee cup. There is no rush to get out of the sleepingbag. There is no urgency on this trip, no deadline to get started. There is no peak to climb, no ridge to be crossed, no timelines or deadlines.  Only my mom and I on a mountain hike. A mountain hike in at a slightly lower pace. With waffles on the primus stove and sun on our faces. Like the snail, we have our house on our backs, and at a similar pace we will move down from Sognefjellshytta, through Utladalen and back to the car in Hjelle.

The pill alarm goes off and I reach for the pillbox in the top lid of my backpack. The alarm goes off twice a day and is an absolutel necessity when everyday routines are replaced by carefree vacation days. It's surprisingly easy to forget my medication, now that I'm feeling so healthy. On the way to Hjelle, I discovered that the morning dose had been completely forgotten and ended up with corticosteoroid in the evening instead of breakfast. It probably did not make it any easier to fall asleep in the car. So when the pills are now easily accessible as the alarm goes off, just pull them in.

We take in the mighty landscape as we stroll down the lush valley. There's nothing to be achieved, no rush. There's time for a morning swim in the river, to notice all the butterflies and bumblebees. Time to enjoy the view of snow- and glacier-clad mountain peaks against clear, blue skies. There's no doubt my mother and I have quite different levels of physical fitness and mountain experience, so in this scenario the roles are a bit reversed. In the same way that my mother has cheered me on throughout my life, I now cheer my mom on through Jotunheimen. With a supportive hand and encouraging words through the toughest parts.

There is something nice about hiking in this way as well. On someone else's terms, seen through somone else's eyes. It makes me look forward to the next check-up at the rheumatologist. Cause this time I will ask if I can make aappointment in Denmark this fall ..

The clouds are playing around the peaks of Smørstabbtindene, but as we are approaching the summit of Storebjørn they pull aside to let the sun shine down on us. We have taken off our skis and are on our feet for the last few meters to the top. I breathe a little heavily and feel my heart race a little extra while my feet are working their way up through the snow. Finally, I am at the top plateau with the group. It is a glorious day for ski touring, and despite the endless row of skiers making their way up to Storebjørn this day at this particular moment we have the peak to ourselves. Standing up here again feels like an official recovery milestone. My heart rate drops back down and take in the sights of Jotunheimen's white-clad peaks against a blue sky. The gaze is drawn towards the neighboring peak Veslebjørn. There is an idea within the group that we will go up there after this. The thought is tempting. A trip up Veslebjørn will mean a new 2000 meter peak in the peak collection, and a new Smørstabbtind that can be "checked" off. But my body is tired and tomorrow theres another day of skiing that I don't want to miss out on. 

There is no harm in being active and get tired when you have lupus. Physical activity and exercise are strongly encouraged since the disease makes you are a little more prone to cardiovascular disease. Activity that strengthens the heart and lungs is beneficial. Cardio is also considered to be positive to battle the famous fatigue that I have heard so much about, but luckily not experienced yet. My hope is that by keeping the activity level up I can keep it at a bay for a little longer. It is recommended that you build up the shape gradually. Pushing too hard, too intensely, too fast can potentially lead to flare-ups. This is what's on the scale when Veslebjørn is over there and shouting: «Come on! Don't be a loser! You're not weak, are you? "

But am I actually able to go up on Veslebjørn today? Am I going to push it a little too far down if I do? The thoughts are weighed against the victory of getting a new top in the collection. In the end, I come to the conclusion that I am satisfied with conquering Storebjørn. We agree that I will set up a nice spot and take a break in the sun while the rest of the group continues on to Veslebjørn. An hour, two coffee cups and a roll of chocolate later, they show up tired and happy at my spot. And even though I feel a slight defeat of having to pass on Veslebjørn, my legs feels fresh and strong for the skiing down Leirbrean. Veslebjørn will still be there later, and as I swoosh down the powdery snow , I celebrate with a joyful squeal that preserving the energy for this, was exactly right today. 

Sources:
​Lupus Org UK https: //www.lupusuk.org.uk/lupus-and-exercise/ ​