Back on the trail

Without a lot of joy or anticipation, I pulled my boots on today for the first time since a six-mile hike in Yosemite a few weeks ago. This is only the fourth time I’ve hiked since hitting the road at the end of May, following a long winter of doing almost nothing physical, and I haven’t looked forward to any of these short hikes I’ve done. Once on the trail, I always enjoy myself, but not with the old enthusiasm. Everything is just harder with being out of shape.

I have some ideas about how I let myself go this year, but that doesn’t help the simple fact that I did just that. Depressed first about the horrible situation with my sweet dog Dexter and ultimately losing him, then dealing with a bout of shingles from the stress, pretty much ruined me for any physical activity the fall semester. And just when I found the energy to return to circuit training, I was offered early retirement, resulting in every minute being spent either preparing to move or finishing up projects at WITCC. So I gave up trying to get any physical activity in at all. That, coupled with stress-induced emotional overeating, resulted in me finding myself as heavy and out of shape as I’ve been since before I lost so much weight in 2009.

It’s amazing how easy it was to slide into the sedentary habits I’d lived with for most of my life before breaking out of that pattern seven years ago. And when one is not in good physical shape, everything is harder; the body doesn’t work as efficiently and hiking is not nearly as enjoyable. I also realize that the older I get, the harder it is to regain the fit and healthy body I’d managed to develop. But I am determined to do just that, and I refuse to give that fit body to the history books.

Fortunately, the lifestyle I’m living now burns more calories and prevents a sedentary existence. While I volunteered in June at Yosemite, I walked more than a mile in to work every day and spent a lot of time both on my feet and walking to and from destinations. Now that I’m in Independence at the motel, I’m up by 5:30 every day and on my feet either serving breakfast or cleaning up from breakfast for about four hours. Then I’m often running here or there, taking care of other tasks. But still, that’s not enough to build any real muscle or lose the fat I’ve let accumulate.

So today, I began hiking again. It’s not easy to get motivated here where it’s 100 degrees every day and the sun feels like an oven. I can’t take off until my work at the motel is done, so I have to hike in the heat of the day. But this afternoon, I reminded myself that I was able to hike three days in the Grand Canyon when it was more than 100 degrees for most of the hike, and I’ve hiked in Arches and Capitol Reef in similar conditions, so I needed to quit whining and hit the trail. And you know, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was pretty great.

 

Although I didn’t have that initial anticipation and joy, I quickly found it after a few hundred yards. As I strode up to the trailhead, not far from the cabin where I’m staying, the warmth of the sun on my bare legs and arms felt wonderful. The wind was blowing, keeping my skin cooled, and I barely felt the ground rise before me. As the old-road-turned-trail I was hiking on snaked and turned back on itself in big sweeping switchbacks, I either looked out over the wide, dry Owens Valley and the town of Independence far below or up at the jagged, stunning peaks of the Sierra Nevada.

The joy of the climb, of breathing in the thinner air of 6000 feet and higher, filled me with energy and peace. The trail climbed for two miles, reaching the top of a rounded mountain before snaking off in the distance. I hardly noticed the effort until I’d hiked about a mile and a half, and then I hit an area where the incline increased and the soil under my feet became loose. I paused to catch my breath and looked at my GPS. The elevation was around 6600 feet and I’d hiked about 1.6 miles. Intending to hike four miles in total, I decided I’d push myself up that last incline and reach for 7000 feet and/or two miles as a goal.

In the harmony of synchronistic coincidence, I hit the two-mile mark at the same time as the elevation reached 7000 feet.  Sitting on a flat-topped rock that some natural force had conveniently placed there at the top, I took in the breathtaking landscape there at the cusp of the High Sierra. I felt good having climbed 1000 feet of elevation gain in two miles, although a year ago, while hiking the John Muir Trail, that was just a small portion of a typical day. I realized that I am, in fact, happiest when I’ve worked hard at climbing some rugged trail in the mountains, and I haven’t lost it all after all.

Tonight, my legs are pleasingly tired and my feet are a little sore, but with some stretching before bed, I’ll be ready to hit the trail tomorrow afternoon again. And best of all, I know before too long I’ll be once again fit and healthy and able to trek the long miles in the places I love best.