Oh look, it's Dietrich

So, say you were on a cleanse, peaking in a water- and tea-only fast this Sunday. Say you would like to go on that day to some woods. Ideally, said woods would be:

1. not too far away from Cambridge/Somerville, as you don't want to drive too far while on a fast;
2. not too crowded, so you could do silly spiritual things without attracting too much human attention;
3. not made up entirely of hills and mountainy things, as you will be weak from fasting and not so much into climbing things, and;
4. still fairly isolated.

Where would you go?

Or, "I grow old, I grow old, / I shall wear three pairs of trousers 'gainst the cold."

Or, "Proof #368 That I'm Not an Athlete"

Day Two found me gettin' my butch on. I donned long underwear, a long-sleeve shirt, sweatpants, a sweatshirt, rain pants and a jacket. New Smartwool socks, new hiking boots. Big ol' gloves, neck warmer, ear warmers, sunglasses. Clif bars. All set.

D------ and I drove out to Sulphur Mountain, in Banff. We were to hike a fairly easy trail, about 5 km and 2000 ft gain in elevation, then take a free gondola ride down. Whee!

Did I mention it was the second day? Did I mention that we started at 5,600 feet?

Did I mention I've lived at sea level my entire life?

Now, D------ is a very experienced hiker, in all kinds of terrain. She's done most of the US national parks and the Inca Trail in Peru. She is Nature Girl.

I, on the other hand, am a wussy day-hiker.

So we started up the mountain, and really, it was a small mountain. The way up was all switchbacks, mostly at approximately a 30-degree angle or less, with the occasional 45-degree at the turns. But there were about six inches of snow, and it was slippery, and did I mention the elevation?

I wasn't aware, or had stupidly forgotten, that elevation can have such a profound effect. After a few minutes I was already quite winded. I was working much harder than it seemed I should be. My legs weren't tired at all, but I was breathing hard, my lungs were burning, and I tasted blood in my throat. In fact, after about 15 minutes, it felt like I had been running hard for that long.

Now, I've never been a runner. I hate running. Detest it. Five minutes of running and I'm completely wiped. I can ride bikes or walk for hours, I can do aerobics, but something about running kills me immediately.

ert loves jogging, and keeps teasing me to try it. I tell him that in high school, I had to do a track unit in gym where the goal was to run a mile. I had to run every day. And it never got any better. I just think I'm not cut out for it. (Anyone have any ideas on this? I've always wondered.)

In any case, I felt hot, I felt short of breath, sick, like I was going to pass out...and D------ sent me back down the hill.

Admittedly, it needed to happen. We'd only been at our living elevation for 36 or so hours, and D------ told me later that one needs 48 hours to acclimatize, every 2000 feet of elevation one gains.

Thanks for telling me! ;)

So I felt like a wuss for the rest of the day, went down and checked out the site, and the hot spring, and had a veggie burger and a hot chocolate and wrote in my journal a while.

Which was fine.

Later, folks came back from skiing and such, dinner was had, Ert and I took a soak in the jacuzzi, and the bed welcomed.