I climbed my first mountain yesterday.
Ok, the actual hike was only 3 miles roundtrip. But the elevation gain was 1255 feet – no joke for someone who’s lived all her life at sea level. We walked from my house to the trailhead, so in total, our trip took 3 1/2 hrs.
Climbing the mountain wasn’t fun.
In July I’m going on a four-day backbacking trip near the Continental Divide, and we will be camping at about 9000 feet. I need to get in shape for this excursion or it will not be pretty. So my boyfriend and I decided that every weekend we’re going to try a different, challenging hike in Boulder. Sanitas was just breaking us in. “It’s more mellow than the other ones we’ll be doing,” my boyfriend assured me.
I was nervous but excited at the start of our trip. Sunny, Sunday and Mother’s Day meant that the trail was swarming with families. Including little kids. “Hey, this can’t be so bad if 7 year olds are doing it,” I thought.
I started the hike the way I start everything. Way too fast. I didn’t want to be the slow huffer and puffer. But guess what – about 1/4 of the way up the trail, I was. Standing off to the side, I gasped for air. “My lungs hurt,” I wheezed as I spat thick saliva onto the ground. “Is that normal?”
“You’re going at a pretty good clip”, he said. “We can slow down. There’s no rush.”
Slow down???
There’s no rush???
It’s OK to look like I don’t know what I’m doing???
I haven’t heard these sentiments from many people in my life. But they were exactly what I needed to hear at the time.
I felt understood and supported. And also, like a little kid.
I continued up the trail, slower this time. I looked around at the spectacular, green, pine-fringed views. I smelled the air. I laughed at the two moms hiking with crying 3 year olds strapped to their backs, and at the woman talking on her cell phone. I stopped again to rest, then I continued. I stopped again when the place I thought was the summit wasn’t the summit at all, and voiced my dismay. I told my boyfriend I wasn’t going on the backpacking trip. He laughed at me.
The funny thing was I never thought of turning back. I was so close and I kept getting closer. My legs were aching but I knew there would be an end. And when we reached the top, then started our descent, I knew I would hike again the next weekend. “I can’t wait for you to see how much better you get over time,” said my boyfriend.
Moral of the story? The usual. Unrealistic expectations vs reality, speeding vs going at YOUR pace, and stopping to look at the view. It’s funny that I think I know all this already, yet when I’m faced with a new challenge I go right into that old mode.
Let’s see how I do next weekend.
There were a couple of remarkable things about this hike. First: 45 mph winds, which almost prevented us from going. Good thing my boyfriend encouraged us to “just get up into the trees”. Second: hummingbirds. Two. Swooping and dive-bombing each other, their wings blurring with their frenetic motion.
