At first glance, you may assume that I am a thin, healthy girl. Mildly attractive if you are into that awkward nerdy thing (thank God it does it for the Man). On second glance, you may still think that. Especially if you are into dress pants covered in dog hair (I don’t even think the Man fits into this category, but there are people out there, right?).
But! I have been really inactive lately. I blame the surgery, but this far in, that is probably just an excuse. Also Netflix.
The point is, underneath this mildly attractive exterior, I am melting into a puddle of 100% body fat. It’s just the skin that houses all of my lard happens to be in the correct shape. Poke my arm though, and you’ll see. It will jiggle and wiggle like a arm full of jelly.
I’m sorry, that’s gross. Here’s a picture instead:
So basically, I need to get fit. Or healthy. Or have some muscle tone at all. To that end I went on Hike.
This wasn’t just any hike. It was Hike. It was a get up at the crack of dawn (8:00) and pretend you aren’t hung-over because you are gonna be at this all day kinda hike.
We walked 3 miles up hill. Our guide/the guy-with-the–best-hiking-boots had this really spiffy GPS tracker. It told us how many miles we had gone and how many feet in elevation we had climbed. I don’t remember what it was, but I’m going to say 1 billion. We already live at 7000 ft, so I don’t think that is an exaggeration.
The point is. The air was thin
But I was feeling really good. My blood was pumping and the area was truly beautiful. Every 15 minutes or so the scenery would change completely. It would go from mossy trees to rocky hills to streaming river. One of the best ways to get in shape I can think of: go look at pretty shit for a while.
Then we reached the lake aka our destination. This greeted us:
The Man was pretty sure Momma wild goat was going to kills us. Or at least maim one of us as a warning to the rest.
Turns out they just wanted to eat some grass.
Then we walked down hill for 3 miles. For most people downhill is the easy part. You start to get your breath back and gravity starts doing half the work for you.
But for me, my knee started hurting really badly. Like it couldn’t support me for one more second. This happened at .5 miles. The rest of the 2.5 miles were torture.
Why did this happen? I am a youngish thing; my joints should be doing good. Strong. And well they are strong. But refer back to that picture of mine. No muscles.
It’s a hard job to take bag ‘o blubber down a mountain.