I am sure I said I could be happy never hiking the overlook ever again. I said it but I suppose I lied it. Last night BC called home with an offer "I'd hike with you...." he said over the background noise of an open window and heavy weekend traffic dropping down over Parley's summit. He proposed the benches- too hot in the late afternoon sun. He proposed Elbow Fork- too straight up in my post 7 mile run ( 35 for the week) state. I countered with the overlook already regretting it. And he accepted it.
I suppose when I said I would not hike this trail again I must have meant I would not hike it alone...
And had BC not been beside me I wouldn't have made it up the meager 2 mile trail.
Half way up we paused for a water break. He had already noted how nice it was I had "grown-up" and was hiking at a "pleasant pace". It was slow for me. Very slow. What he didn't know was I was working way beyond a comfortable physical limit. Inside my head I was fighting a battle to push through, to not give up- it started in the parking lot.
When it was time to move again I felt my whole body reject the possibility of more work. I was shaking and crashing harder than I have crashed in a very long time. Crashing halfway up a mountain. It wasn't a surprise. I had already been pushing my luck.
Beyond the week's total of 35 miles of running there was kick boxing & crossfit, and work, and home, and kid. And the whole forced breakup with bread and friends of bread. All week BC had looked at his plate frowning but laughing, "Another carb free meal." By Thursday he was calling home to request exotic things like rice or pasta. It's not that he isn't being supportive, its just that he is truly hungry. I'm still learning how to put the whole thing together, feeding my family without poisoning myself. Mostly it is paying off. I feel fantastic, tired but fantastic. I gained 5 pounds and dropped a pant size (a size I never should have gained in the first place!). A five pound gain? That's the way my body works. I have learned to accept it.
I thought the shaky feel might pass so I said nothing about it until I had no choice.
BC is very different from the other men in my life. It annoys me to no end how capable he finds me. He pushes me and bates me into fights others would protect me from. He seems to knows where the line is; a line I can't see.
Last weekend when just out of his sight I fell hiking. He knew I was trouble even as I was denying it. Before I could pick myself up he was standing over me, his hand out. He picked me right out of rocks and set me firmly on my feet on the ledge beside him. The ledge I had let slip out of my hands.
Back on the overlook trail after telling him I was crashing he looked me square in the face and asked, "Misty Brown, do you want to quit?"
No, I don't.
I want to fight through this. I want to keep going even when it is hard. I want to face the fight head on. I want to wake up and know where I am.
And in the end I want to come out on top.
Beside him.
Sometimes 2 miles is just 2 miles.
