I want to preface this post by saying that since I stopped playing sports, I have not been in shape. If not for anything but to assure others that if I can do it, so can you. Until last weekend, I had always been deterred from attempting to hike a 14'er out of fear that I wouldn't be able to finish. This idea alone has been a metaphor for my life. I've always been the kind of person who plays it safe, even as a child. I never broke any bones growing up because I was always too scared to do anything crazy that might get me hurt. But as of late, I have taken a different approach when it comes to my life. So when my best friend asked if I wanted to hike Grays Peak with her, I almost immediately said yes.
Sure, I had doubts. We were going to be hiking one of the "easier" 14'ers in Colorado, a Class 1. But even those are no joke. I tried to talk myself up and dispel any uncertainty that kept popping up in my mind. The night before was restless and sweaty. Part of me just didn't want to miss my alarm going off but I think a subconscious part was straight up nervous. 3:15 am rolled around and I rolled out of bed and started putting on the layers that I had laid out the night before. Leggings, t-shirt, sweater, vest, beanie. I choked down some protein-packed oatmeal and we started driving in the dark.
When I say this shit was hard, I'm not kidding. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that. It started out hard, my lungs not used to being at 11,000 feet yet. After the first hard part you get tricked into thinking you're on a nice walk. Wildflowers as far as you can see, every color. Wild Columbines, daisies, lupines, and Indian Paintbrushes. The low light of sunrise only made their color more stunning against the lush rolling green that surrounded us in every direction. A small creek appeared as if out of nowhere alongside the trail and we fell silent, nothing but the sound of the water and our breathing filling the valley.
Then it got hard again. I thought that first part got me winded. We climbed over giant loose boulders and small rocks that shifted under your feet. Pretty soon my legs felt like they were made of lead. I had to focus everything I had on moving one foot in front of the other, my muscle fibers screaming for oxygen. But there was none, or that's what it felt like. "Okay, if we just make it to that log, we can take a break." It didn't seem far, it seemed doable. But halfway to that log, I couldn't drag my legs any further.
Our other friend that had tagged along, a masters student in the athletic training program at Baylor, took breaks with us even though we knew he didn't have to and encouraged us the whole way. After what felt like forever, the weight finally lifted from our legs and it was just our lungs that were the problem. As we neared 14,000 feet, there was less and less oxygen to replace what we were using. The breaks seemed to be coming more frequently but we could finally see the peak. I dragged myself up to the summit and took in the panoramic view that was waiting for me.
On the drive home, Megan and I discussed our day. Partly to keep ourselves from falling asleep now that the adrenaline had finally left our bodies and partly because we like to unpack the meaning in things. We do this even without the help of drugs. We get ourselves into deep conversations on a daily basis, that's something I value about our friendship. We talked about how proud we were of ourselves and how hard it was, of course. But we also found deeper meaning in the struggle that was the hike and found a way to apply that to the rest of our lives.
Sometimes in life, you're not where you thought you would be at a given point in time. You set goals for yourself and sometimes you don't meet them no matter how hard you try, that's just how it goes. Then you start to learn what is a more realistic goal and make adjustments so you can begin to meet new goals that you set. We also talked about how nice it was that no one was making anyone else feel bad about summiting faster than someone else. As we hiked, there was an unspoken agreement among everyone on the trail that it was fucking hard. Everyone went at their own pace and everyone encouraged each other on the way up as well as on the way down. Finally we made it to the top where everyone was just sitting and enjoying the view, everyone proud of themselves for what they had just accomplished, no matter how long it took them to get there.
The moral of the story: sometimes life doesn't go exactly according to plan. Maybe you set career or life goals for yourself when you were young and suddenly you're 23 and haven't met any of them. That's okay. As long as you surround yourself with people who encourage you and you don't give up, you'll get to where you're going in your own time. Sometimes you just need your ass kicked to realize all of that.
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