Life Lesson #13 - Hiking is difficult if you are out of shape

Haleakala - "House of the Sun", is the world's largest dormant volcano located in Maui, Hawaii. According to legend, the demi-god, Maui captured the sun atop the volcano. He would release the sun only if it agreed to give the island more sunlight during the day. The sun obliged and to this day, the summit of Haleakala receives approximately 15 more minutes of sunlight than the rest of the island.

Twelve hours after my arrival (which was a 20+ hour journey) to Maui, my hostel offered a free tour to the volcano. The excursion would be a 12+ mile hike taking us through 11 ecosystems.

Let me put out this very important fact - I don't exercise. In fact, I try to move as little as possible. I am extremely lazy and feel my best when sitting. I don't understand what it means to hike and I certainly do not comprehend what 12 miles means.

The night before the hike, I asked fellow travelers about the trip to Haleakala. I received mixed messages about the tour. Some said, "it's not bad, the average person can do it." Others said, "it's really intense." The word intense should have registered something with me. However, I was determined to do the tour and I rationalized that it would be good for me.

I awoke at 6am and began to get ready for the big hike. I put on my New Balance sneakers and gym clothes (from when I used to exercise back in 2001). I was pumped. The hike began at the top of the mountain at 9,000 feet. It was flippin' freezing up there. We began or descent through the sandy terrain. One mile in, I was feeling pretty confident. "Look! I'm doing it!" I proudly said to myself (we were freaking going downhill, I'm such an idiot).

One hour into the hike we reached a different world, I am guessing Mars. I saw plants and animals that were not of our planet. We were walking on rocks with each step and I nearly sprained my ankle 100s of times. I was starting to hurt, badly. "Okay, only 5 more hours to go, I can do this. Concentrate." However we were still going downhill so realistically it wasn't so bad.

Five miles in we arrived to our first ascent, which the guide lovingly called "Bitch Mountain." He said that he called it that because this is the point where hikers really began to bitch. I was determined not to complain and began to climb the steep hill. Fellow travelers began to stare at me and ask if I was okay. I wonder what I looked like. Man, that mountain was a bitch. But I made it. Someone took a picture of me at the top with my arms raised above me in a victory pose. I thought that was going to be the most difficult part of the hike, I'm such an idiot.

After bitch mountain we arrived to something called the "Bottomless Pit." Our guide explained that no one really knows how deep the chasm is and that traditional Hawaiians come to the pit to discard their baby's placentas as a blessing. "That's weird," I thought. Twenty minutes later he told us that he was just messing with us about the placenta thing and that the bottomless pit was actually only 65 feet deep. I felt deceived. The guide then says, "Okay, save your energy for the most rigorous part of the hike." WHAT?!

At this point we where seven miles in and I was experiencing some sort of "runner's high." I do not know what a runner's high is because I do not run, but I assume it was something similar to what I was feeling. Despite the shooting pains through my feet and legs, I felt incredible energy and that I could possibly sprint the rest of the way whilst carrying everyone's backpacks. I felt invincible.

My runner's high came to a screeching halt as I stared 8,000 feet (above the cloud line) up to the summit of the mountain we were about to climb. I began to panic. I was in so much physical pain and I had no idea if I could make such an ascent. No one else seemed to be anxious, so I hid my true feelings and began to hike up the extremely rocky and steep terrain.

Shortly after the ascent began, I felt absolutely horrible. My feet felt as if they had been cut by daggers 1000 times over and I thought my legs were going to separate from my body. I was incredibly nauseous and my head felt heavier than the rest of my body. I think I was hallucinating because I felt I was climbing the mountain upside down. Fellow hikers began to pass me with very concerned expressions asking me if I was okay. I couldn't speak. All I could do was give them a thumbs up sign.

Several points during the last leg of the hike I was alone. At mile marker 10, I plopped down on a rock and dizzily drank my water. I looked over the cloud line towards a beautiful rainbow. It was cold and misty, I believe I was 6-7,000 feet high at this point. The view was serene and beautiful, but I am terrified of heights which probably added to my vertigo. How I felt is indescribable. I wanted to cry. "How in the hell am I going to finish this hike?" I contemplated letting my lifeless body fall off the side of the cliff (which was inches beside me).

The last few hikers passed me by (one was 57 years-old). Again, they were concerned that I might undergo some sort of cardiac arrest thus the incessant inquiries regarding my well being. I'm okay, I'm just a little dizzy," I explained. The 57 year-old woman and a 20 year-old Canadian man were so concerned for me that they insisted on walking with me the rest of the way. They tried to keep my spirits up by singing songs. They randomly sang "Eye of the Tiger." That song just so happens to be one of my inspirational anthems. I began to walk again.

A total of six hours and 13 miles later (the hike was actually 13 miles, not 12), I saw the most heavenly vision - the summit. At the top were the remaining hikers. They began to clap and cheer as the saw me approach. They lined up to give me high fives and hugs. "You did it!" "Are you okay?" I couldn't speak. I offered my weak hand attached to my flaccid arm in attempt to high five them back. Soon thereafter, I collapsed to the ground where I remained motionless. I think we saw the sunset, I can't remember because I was cracked out of my mind.

When I get home, I am going to start exercising.