Well, I finally broke down and revisited the Manitou Incline – the approximate 2,000 foot climb in just under a mile of hellacious wooden steps.  It wasn’t pretty or quick, but it got done. Several people from my civilian workplace have been hiking there every Tuesday morning for a couple of months, but my contracting job doesn’t allow me enough hours off in order to take part in the endeavor.  Since I am on military orders this week at the Air Force Academy, I decided to give it a try after a few years’ hiatus.

It seemed like a good idea at first.  After all, I’m supposed to be training for the Summer Round Up this weekend and eventually, the Pikes Peak Ascent in August as a member of the Pikes Peak Sports Triple Crown Runners.  So far, my “training” has consisted of random thoughts about running, followed by a plate of nachos and a good, light summer beer.  I actually have a perfectly willing and able training partner in my husband, Andy, so I really don’t have any good excuses.  It was time to get moving.

We planned to start at 5am, which would mean we’d have to leave our Black Forest home at about 4am in order to make the drive, park and walk to the start.  However, as I climbed into bed last night, I somehow decided that 4:35am was a more palatable waking hour and set my phone alarm accordingly. When it dutifully woke me at the prescribed hour, I immediately decided that 5am was actually a better plan and adjusted my timetable again. Procrastination at its finest.

Finally out of excuses, packed and ready to go, we drove to Manitou Springs and arrived near the Incline around 6am. When I say “around”, I mean what felt like at least a mile away – with an uphill walk to even get to the start.  I noticed it had been awhile since I’d attempted this hike, especially since the trail is now officially legal to occupy (instead of the blind-eyed trespassing as in years past). Also, the Barr Trail parking lot is now paved and there are parking meters for the zealous fans of the Incline all up and down Ruxton Avenue.  Mind  you, most of them are for residents only until 8am, so if you’re getting an early start, as most Incliners seem to do, you’ll be parking a bit further down and adding what I feel is a substantial load to your already lofty fitness plan for the day.

As we walked to the start, I knew my legs were already suspciously onto my evil plan. They slowly began to burn in protest just from the walk and I tried my best to hide my panting-too-soon-shame from Andy along the way.  I did mutter a few confessions of fatigue in his direction, which were promptly ignored since of course, we weren’t even at the start yet.

Once there, I tried one last stalling trick of slowly removing my sweatshirt, tying it around my waist in various knot configurations and finally demanding time to start the GPS on my iPhone. The stall didn’t work that well since we started up the trail soon after, but it did give me some time to catch my breath before the real workout began. I knew that many moons ago, I was able to complete this monster in about 31 minutes, but realistically expected to be much slower and set a goal for 45 minutes.

The pain began much sooner than I remembered as I was already panting like a heat casualty within the first five minutes. I kept my head low and tried to concentrate simply on taking the next step – one foot at a time, was my plan. My mind went to its own sustainment mode, so deeply entrenched in work that as I moved aside and briefly admired the hot man that passed me on my left, it wasn’t until he got a few steps ahead that I recognized him as my own husband. Nice, I thought.  Now, back to work!

I think Andy’s intention in passing me was not only to appease his obvious boredom in my pace, but a hope that I would move a bit quicker trying to catch him. Truth is, that while I would love to have kept the pace he set, my body simply would not do so.

I continued to heave, huff, curse and crawl my way up the path. I consoled myself with the fact that I hadn’t been passed by very many others and I had made some good progress in actually overtaking a good handful of hikers on the trail (my competitiveness won’t take a reprieve, even when my actual abilities do).  I didn’t have enough energy to even raise my head to assess my progress when Andy stopped to admire something behind us in the distance.  “Look at that building!”, he exclaimed.  I’m assuming he actually expected me to turn around and look, and my intention was to say, “I’m sorry, I’m too busy trying to breathe – leave me alone.”  However, given my current condition, I believe all I managed was a desperate mutter that sounded something like  “Hmphfphfluff”, along with a weak, annoyed  wave of my hand in his direction.

Watching my GPS and timer, I decided that I was behind on my projected pace and therefore could not allow myself the break I desired at least every three steps. There was no sightseeing and no comaraderie along the way.  It was just me versus the Incline. And it was winning. I could not believe how much my legs were burning and I spent at least the last half of the trail using my arms to push down on my quads for the much needed climbing assist.  I clutched every rail I could reach and still stared angrily at my shoes most of the way, wishing they had some kind of rocket power to help me get to the top faster. I cursed whoever came up with this stupid Incline hike plan until Andy reminded me that I was actually the culprit of ingenuity. I contemplated bailing out of the trail at the tempting halfway point, but my pride miraculously managed to overcome my despair and I continued on.

Eventually, I began to hear a few women up ahead. I could tell they were a group of friends because they were chatting and laughing in the distance – not a one of them sounding out of breath and clearly not in the kind of pain I perceived myself to be. Now, although I try to be a mostly-jovial creature, I must admit that when I am particularly exhausted and hurting, I become like a wild animal, ready to snap at anything in my way. As I approached, ready to give a jealous glare in their direction, one of them turned around and smiled.  It turned out to be Evelyn Cedrun, a co-worker’s wife who actually made a fantastic custom cake for my wedding last year, along with several of her like-minded generous and happy friends.  This melted by grumpiness and helped me snap out of my gloom. Plus, I could finally see the top of the trail (the real one, not the infamous fake one that I already knew would try to trick me along the way) and my timer said I had five minutes in which to meet my goal.

Andy assured me I could  make it, although I had my doubts, and I think he charged ahead to wait, although I was so delirious I couldn’t really tell  you if he was actually standing right next to me.  In my world, all my existence drew to a small circle of conciousness which propelled me to the top – legs burning and lungs heaving.   I aggressively slapped the STOP on my GPS timer as soon as my foot cleared the last stair and was relieved to see a 45:21 result.  I had made my projected time, after all.

The experience was incredibly humbling, but somehow on the downhill jog back, I actually wanted to do it again sometime.  I have no idea why.  It hurt. I was miserable most of the way and it obviously showcased how out of shape I have become.  Nevertheless, I suppose the challenge makes it all worthwhile. It made me appreciate my friends – my best friend, Andy, my other friends, such as Evelyn, and even those I didn’t see today at all. I know you are all out there regularly pushing your bodies and sharing your progress and goals. I love being a part of it all, so today, I say thanks – but, still, if you see any rocket powered shoes out there, please let me know!