So... Today God and I climbed a volcano.
Yeah, it's true. And it was awesome (pictures will be coming shortly). It was by far the hardest hike I've ever done and the hardest physical exertion I've done in a long time. Going into it, I was nervous, but I thought that after two rounds of Insanity and a lot of physical activity in general, I'd be just fine. Ha. I was wrong. This hike was, by far, one of the most humbling fitness experiences of my life.
I'm on a trip to Hawaii visiting a friend, and decided that the one thing I HAD to do before leaving was hike some sort of volcano. Just so I could say I had (yeah, I'm weird and stubborn like that). Turns out the only option on Oahu was Diamond Head. Being the fitness challenge conquering junkie that I am, I insisted that we do this. As the time to get out there got closer, I could feel myself getting more nervous. I looked at photos, read articles, and several times considered just taking the drive up option to the look out.
But no. I had to climb it. I'd told myself that I would climb to the top of a volcano, and gosh golly, I now HAD to do it.
So off we went. We pulled into the parking lot and while looking up at the enormous mountain in front of us (with an indiscernible trail off in the distance) a huge lump formed in my throat and my stomach started churning.
What the heck had I gotten myself into????? I looked over at my friend and we both said, "We're crazy!" And yeah. We pretty much were.
I'd been on the trial for a grand total of about five minutes when I could feel my heart pumping really fast and my breathing was picking up. We were still on the sidewalk.
A steep sidewalk it was, but we hadn't even made it to the official hiking trail yet. By the time we got to the rocky trail (maybe a quarter of a mile in) I was already breathing hard and my forehead and back were almost dripping in sweat.
We started climbing up the steep trail (yeah, despite what you may read from other articles... this is NOT a moderate trail. I hike in Virginia on the Appalachian trail... that is a moderate trail... this, heck to the no). Within minutes (maybe 4?) I had a hard time breathing and stopped at the first lookout to "take pictures" (i.e., catch my breath and give my already burning hamstrings and calves a rest while conveniently snapping a few shots). There were many a more stop like this along the way.
And then came the stairs.
Omigoodness, I thought I was going to die. Struggling to breathe, legs burning, stomach a little queasy, and drenched in sweat, I stared up at a steep set of 74 steps (yes, I counted). By the time I reached the top and looked at the uphill tunnel I had to walk through, I felt like my legs were going to give out and I was gasping for breath (and yes, I do realize this may sound easy peasy to some of you - but trust me, it wasn't). It was incredibly humbling (ahem, I do not it's a tough hike cuz there were tons of obviously fit and strong people around me talking about how this was a lot harder than they'd expected. So there. Not just me).
At the end of the tunnel, there was a more designated lookout with a few benches. For a while now, I could feel that my shoes had been rubbing against my feet in a bad way (yeah, I brought the wrong shoes), and could also feel something damp inside my shoe that was definitely NOT sweat. So I sat down for a minute, pulled off my shoe to reveal a bit of a bloody mess. I'd rubbed quite a lovely scrape down the side of my foot that was bleeding and rather painful.
Between the heat, the dehydration (I'd not-so-smartly sent the water on ahead with my beastly friend who was quite a ways ahead of me on the trail), and now seeing the unexpected predicament of my foot, my stomach almost completely gave out. I sat there for a few minutes, with my head hanging, just trying not to throw up. And I admit, I was pretty shocked.
I mean, seriously? I'd made it through Insanity twice, and intense kickboxing class two times a week, and occasionally hiking in the mountains near my house. Though I still have weight to loose, I'm a FIT, ACTIVE, and STRONG person. And I was going to get beat halfway up this trail? Seriously?
There was a rather intense mental battle that went on in my head during those few minutes. My body was telling me to give up. I'd made it up quite a ways and still had a spectacular view; my foot was bleeding, my heart-rate still hadn't come down that much, I was severely dehydrated, and I was dripping (yes, literally) in sweat. I should be proud. Take the "E" for effort and go back down, find some water, and lay down in the grass somewhere until my stomach settled down. Besides, I looked around the corner and saw the dreaded 90 more steps up the mountain that would take me to the yet steeper last bit of trail to the lookout. I wanted to cry. No way could I face that. It was physically painful just to think about it.
But then the stubborn Irish-German-Jew spirit kicked in and I knew that if I didn't finish, I'd regret it. This would be a goal left unchecked and more than anything, I'd be disappointed that this giant pile of rock had beaten me. I'd made a commitment to myself - I wanted to finish. At that moment, more than anything else I needed to prove to myself that even when I was physically exhausted, in pain, and had no mental or emotional energy to keep going, digging deeper and pushing through to the finish line would produce great results. I sat there and prayed for a few more minutes.
"Lord, you know there is no way I can do this. I have no physical strength left. But You've given me the opportunity to come here and I believe I'm supposed to finish. You've got something for me up there at the top and I want it!"
And He did. Though probably not the smartest decision given my physical state, I stood back up (though quite shaky still) and made my way up the horrendous stairs. Every step was a battle, but with every step I was that much closer to finishing and was that much closer to saying "I DID IT!"
Each step was taken with a prayer under my breath. Pretty much all I could mutter was "God, please just help me make it to the top. Just to the top." Glory to Him, I finally did make it up to the lookout where dozens of other exhausted, sweaty, and panting hikers stood.
The view was breathtaking and as soon as I saw it, I forgot what a horrible time it had been getting up there. I was still in pain, still exhausted, still a nasty, sweaty mess; but it didn't matter anymore. I'd finished the race. I was standing on top of a dormant volcano looking down on a virtual beach paradise in one direction and a hauntingly beautiful mountain range in the other. Speechless at the beauty of Creation, I leaned back against a railing in utter amazement.
After spending 10 or so minutes taking in the beauty, I headed back down the trail to meet back up with my friend who had tried to come back down to meet me in my sorry, bleeding state. By then, adrenaline was pumping and I was totally psyched that God had pushed me past that point of wanting to give up and had rewarded me with one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen (again, pictures soon to come).
Through that 45 minutes, I was being tested. Pushed to the max of my physical capabilities, and on the verge of giving up entirely, God was showing me that without Him, I really can't do this. I can't get healthy without Him. But now I can say..... God and I climbed a volcano! Booyah!
