However, he didn't tell me this before we went up. He basically lied to me and said it was an easy trail. He did buy me new hiking shoes to do this trail, which made me a little suspicious, but I didn't question it. Not even five minutes in, the trail was really steep and rocky, and I was beginning to breathe heavy. Ten minutes in, and my legs were on fire, but I kept going. In fact, I kept going until I was forced into a coughing fit fifteen minutes in and had to stop momentarily, but then I kept going.
We dodged extreme mountain bikers, freestyle rock climbers, and other extremely fit and muscly people as we ascended the trail. I was probably the skinniest, least fit person on that trail. It was a very beautiful trail, as it wound in and out of the red rocks as it slowly went up a couple of foothills, but it was exhausting. I'm no quitter. I kept going, and going, and going, because I didn't want to be the one quitter on the trail with all those super athletes around.
Eventually, after a quarter mile of constant hell, we made it to the top of the first foothill, where the trail leveled off, and even descended a little bit for another quarter mile. There, I was able to catch my breath and increase my pace a little bit. To keep up with my dad who has longer legs than me, I had to do a very slow jog. I wasn't having a lot of fun, but it wasn't bad either. It was cold outside, my lungs seemed to be clearing up, and my body was warming up, so I was doing ok. As long as I didn't sweat, then I could run on for a long time.
My dad occasionally slowed down when there were bumps and drops along the trail, but that was only to jump from one boulder to the next. While he didn't have to jump farther than he could step, I had to actually jump, which increased my heart rate and got me chuffing like a tiger. The last time I chuffed like a tiger like that, I was running on all fours and trying not to fall off a mountainside, while my Turkey hunting guide ran ahead of me. From then on, my hunting nickname was "Wildcat".
Eventually, we got to the beginning of the next massive hill on the trail, and we turned around there. Dad could see and hear my pain. People don't usually sound exactly like a tiger when they're breathing heavily, and I've obviously been unwell and not in the best shape for awhile now. So, while I thought if we just rested for awhile, then I could make it, my dad was smarter than that.
Going back the way we came was harder than I expected. Descending a trail is much easier and faster than ascending it, so it took forever for us to reach the part where the trail goes down the mountain and back to the truck. My dad walked slow so I didn't feel pressured, and when we reached the part of the trail where it descends for a half-mile, I took off. It's easier to just go with gravity rather than resist it, and since my new hiking shoes had excellent traction, I could just run down without worrying about slipping. My dad wasn't that far behind me, but I had made some distance between us twenty minutes later, when I waited for a minute at the crosswalk for him. I wasn't breathing so hard, and I actually felt pretty good down at the crosswalk, but soon after we got in the truck, I felt extremely weak and tired. That's where we called it a day... Well, almost.
