Too Much

It's too much, and I've already over extended it.

 Point of giving up, 572 ft from trail's end and the flipping top.

It's super windy, as Arizona often is in the spring.  Temperature wise it's lovely-the low 80's-almost unusually cool.

Yep, I'm a desert rat now.  80's feels a wee nippy.

So today was going to be a piece of cake-a hike to the top, poles on the up, and actually wearing shoes with a cushion on the way down.

 See?  Not "slippers."

The hike to the first bench is swift; I can tell I'm getting stronger as my arms are getting used to pulling 25% off my hips and knees.  I pass the second bench unwinded, and the creepy old 20% thought of looking at my time pops up.  I'm doing good-it's actually my personal record to the first bench at 2:03.

I wonder if I can break the two minute mark?

 But then...way too soon....

I have a full blown asthma attack.

 I posed for this after...because, you know, blog.

 I knew then I wouldn't make it to the top.

Oh, I slowed down.  And had another attack.

 This IS the trail, btw.

I admit, I was daunted.  I had just passed the third bench.  It was extremely dusty, and I highly suspected that to be the culprit.

Did I mention I'm still sitting on the mountain?

Yeah.  This isn't even over yet.

I'm in the middle of a wretched hike, and I've had, at this count, four asthma attacks.

And frankly, I'm a little scared.

Yep, lots of people around.  In fact, the Buckeye lapped me and is on his way to the top.  So it's not like I won't have company on the way down.  It's just I feel wretched.

Exercise is not supposed to do this to you.  Over three dozen people have hiked by me, three-quarters of them breathing heavily as befits a 1200ft elevation gain.  It makes me angry that my body isn't cooperating, and jealous.  I have the willpower and I have the muscle strength.

I simply do not have air.

Which is highly underrated by you normal breathers...I have a stitch in my side, and I'm shaking.  As my Pilates instructor Lucille used to say, "I'm cooked."  My body has given up on me, even though I can feel the coiled power in my legs, and can see definition in my guns.  My brain (and the knowledge that the Buckeye was behind me) had willed me further than I should have gone...when I sat down, I knew I was toast.

The day had served up some mysteries that needed solving; I was preoccupied with them when I started.  Perhaps I hiked too quick; it had to have been the wind. I could see dust hanging in the air as I waited for the Buckeye's return.  I was disappointed not to make the top (I so love it there) but the upside was the Buckeye was going to get to deal with a very sullen Kate.

Huh.  Have I ever referred to myself in third person before?  Should I give myself a nickname?  Squirrel!

 

Grim determination would be needed for the hike down.

The Buckeye reappears, having completed the trail to the summit and returns to my side.  I get up to start the hike down, and I'm distracted by my wobbly knees-how will this be possible?! Thankfully, the wonderful man I'm dating pulls me in for a kiss; momentarily my fears are assuaged.

Have I mentioned he gave me a dictionary?  I have a huge 8" thick dictionary!!  I may be a bit obsessed with it:)

Starting down I start tripping on the grippy, springy shoes, and as I fall further behind I tell him to go on without me.  This is his workout, and I don't want to mess it up for him when it's my lungs that are the problem.  I sit down trail side and take off the wretched, feels-like-you're-walking-on-a-mattress shoes, and pull my beloved Minimus from my pack.  I take my time to stow my poles; pulling on my pack I see the Buckeye is waiting for me just around the trail's bend.  I'm relieved; I feel simply awful.  It's still hard to breathe, and I've over used the inhaler.  To his credit he doesn't mention my distress; I'm pretty quiet as he shares tales that make me smile.  Did he read me correctly that I don't want to talk about it, or was he ignoring it? I thought, trying not to assume either/or.  

Hiking down, I learned there's such a thing as coffee bread, and that there's more cookies at his house that his mom made:). I learned he's an excellent fudge maker....now these are very important skills....and I learn, again, he's a giver.  He goes on to tell me high school tales, including the fact he was expelled!  I was totally envious as I listened; I'd wanted to do everything he had actually done.  Being the oldest child of all girls, I totally believed my mother would find out anything I did-literally I had the fear of God in me concerning her wrath.  I had hoped to escape by joining the military (Air Force!  Sorry, Buckeye:) but by high school I knew I'd never survive basic.  

Now I know I never would have survived the enlistment physical.

So I went to college instead...and still lead a very sheltered life.  Marriage brought freedom; the Knight and I had just started adventuring when he got sick.  Adventuring while widowed is kinda difficult with a breastfed infant...and then the King.  Who doesn't ever adventure.  Well, ziplining.  So yeah for that!!!

So if he's still around later this year...😂😘...the Buckeye promised me pulla & fudge.  Writing it here so I remember to bug him for it:)

We finish, and I'm trembling still-my body was quite upset with me it seems.  I'm able to chatter a bit at the bottom...and I don't tell him about the crazy day I've had.  I'm just thankful to have survived and off the mountain on my own will power.  We make plans for tomorrow, and I steal as many kisses as I can get away with before a nice lady asks if we're just arriving or leaving shortly.  She asked so nicely even we had to return the kindness; our good byes were brief .  Flopping in my car, I reached for the phone, intent on finishing the tale of this hike.

Undoubtedly, the heavy dust in the air triggered the asthma attacks.  As I'm not on a daily control regime, I had no defense.  I also have a theory too-cushy shoes are to blame, but the Buckeye didn't seem to think that one held water.  I retorted that at least it was entertaining...when the coughing fits I had definitely were not.  Since getting home I'm unusually exhausted, and I've not felt right.

"Pride goeth before the fall," and tonight was proof of that.  I should have called it at the third bench.  It's not like I was being pushed to do it, or that my partner wouldn't understand.  It wasn't to impress him I kept going, rather it was my pride.  I'd done this hike six times in the last four weeks, why couldn't I tag the summit tonight?!  My times had been outstanding-and I wasn't even winded!  To have your main source of energy-air!-virtually tapped out?  After two years of exercise?

It's why I hate exercise.  

Tonight, it was too much.  Tomorrow I'll be doing an easier hike...but tonight?

Ugh.

I hate that quitting was my only option.

 

At least I do own a dictionary now...:)