I enjoy this...

Climbing Something Awesome

I can’t walk today. In fact, I am currently wincing as I type this because I can’t seem to sit without wanting to die. 

I think my left leg is out of place…but I’m no doctor.

So why is my entire body throbbing? Let me tell you a little story.

I don’t know if you read my previous post on goals, but one of them was to climb something awesome. I originally thought this statement referred to climbing Mount Timpanogos, an intense climb that takes about 8 hours.

HA! What can I say, I’m a lot more athletic and sporty in theory.

I now realize I should have just applied my goal to hiking to the Y {30 min climb}.

So Wednesday night I got home from a long day of work…exhausted. My only goal was to read Tess of the D’Ubervilles and relax. A nerdy goal that explains why my recreational habits were not up to par with hiking.

But alas, my roommate Kelsi convinced me to join a group from our ward on a three hour hike up Squaw Peak. 

Maybe convince isn’t the right word. She really just asked me what I was going to do instead --I thought of my book, and then I immediately felt like a nerdy goob, and being a goob was not a summer goal. So I quickly changed clothes before my brain could make a list of reasons why this was a terrible terrible idea.

{Squaw Peak}

Now I want to clarify, I didn’t hate this hike. This hike hated me.

On the way up, I was stumbling about, gasping for air, pleading for the end of the hike or the end of my life.

Even in my desperate and frankly pathetic state, I couldn’t help but appreciate what surrounding me. To put it simply, the climb was beautiful.

I say without pride, that I barely made it to the top. In fact, I don’t have any pride when it comes to my health. Long gone are the first two years of college where I spent every day in the gym trying desperately to keep up with my atrocious eating habits. I’m out of shape, and my pride is nowhere to be found.

But, I made it to the terrifyingly high tip of the mountain alive--no thanks to me. Instead, a friend stayed behind and helped me: bless him, I will name my first born after him. Unless having children is as painful as that hike was: then there will be no first born.

I have to say that going down was glorious. I think I was so giddy that I didn’t have to go up anymore, that I was able to frolic about with ease. It was just nice to be able to enjoy my surroundings without having to suppress an incessant desire to throw up. 

Now I am crossing my goal to climb something awesome off the list and I am retiring my worn out hiking shoes. I figure if I limit my hiking to places I can climb in flip flops it will rule out extremes of all sorts.