Again.
Not only could I breathe, with my mouth closed, I didn't have an asthma attack. I never had to stop. I never had to gulp water-in fact, I didn't even get thirsty.
I'm still in shock...as I then ran the entire 1.4 miles down.
Also without stopping. Also without losing my breath. Also without asthma. Also without walking.
I've never held a sustained run for over a mile without walking.
Ever.
In my entire life.
So the theory is I can climb whatever I want if I go extremely slow. Like so slow a granny will pass you.
Trust me. Plenty of granny's did.
Today I decided to act the fool and pretend I was walking a tightrope up Thumb Butte, deliberately placing one foot closely in front of the other, and move at a snail's pace.
It was rather humiliating.
I was passed so many times, and twice people stopped to ask if I was ok!?!
Besides feeling embarrassed? I was fine.
Absolutely fine.
I climbed the steep side of Thumb Butte for the very first time without stopping, without losing my breath, without an asthma attack, without having to motivate myself, without using my inhaler.
Never, never, never give up.
Two years ago-this was my goal. I never attained it-even at my most fit, as I truly was exactly two years ago.
Two years ago I banged out that hike, twenty pounds or so lighter than I am now. Five days later, I broke my right hand...and I could not do a hard hike without poles. Hence the end of hard hikes, and quite honestly, the beginning of the end of my marriage.
As my hand refused to heal over the next six months (and rebroke two more times) and the last vestiges of married love crumbled, my struggles with exercise compounded. Multiple attempts to find anything that worked failed, failed again, and failed again.
Twelve days ago. Three asthma attacks. Rocks thrown. Frustration at all time high with my body and its inability to adapt to ANY form of exercise.
Today?
Today I checked off an exercise goal TWO YEARS after I established it. Twelve days after desperately wanting to give up, I have confirmation that I possibly have an answer.
The test. From my window I glance up and see what could ultimately prove my theory. Granite. #261. My feet are a bit banged up...blisters from wearing cute shoes yesterday, and one from today's run down. The next two days have Birthday and Ride obligations, so I'm thinking Saturday.
For the last two years, I've whined about wanting a partner. The last six months have proved to me I'm better without one when it comes to exercise.
Is the answer to all the obstacles I'm facing to slow down? Methodically pace myself through each on?
That's so not me.
Ever.
I like making quick and decisive decisions.
I hate conflict, and quick usually ends such things. Or escalates it? Fast is better, right?
Well, this dessert was better savoured...
Slowing way down.
Goodness.
Trust the rebel heart and ride slowly into battle? Well, it is the road less travelled....
And I'm always about that road less travelled...
They do reward you with views like this, so...
Waiting. Moving slowly. Cautiously, or just with quiet patience.
But still moving forward.
Not the answer I expected?
(I've tried to download a photo of me in scarlet and grey SEVEN TIMES and it refuses to load. Really!!)
At this point I wouldn't put it past me to someday actually say "I-O."
Slowing down. I'm scared I'll be bored....but maybe it's what I need to figure out the right path.
The road less travelled.
Here I go.
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