The Day I Climbed a Mountain

Okay, so it wasn't really a mountain.

There is an amazing park a couple hours from our house, up in the mountains, with a huge variety of Costa Rican birds, frogs (some poisonous!), butterflies, and monkeys. There are even some big cats, and not of the domestic sort. But the highlight of this park are the waterfalls. One giant cascade and several smaller falls. They are spectacular. However, to view them, you must walk a path that includes many, many stairs. The first half of the trail has stairs that go down. But, what goes down must come up again. Naturally.

The first time we visited the park in September, those stairs felt every bit like a mountain. I had only been walking to school and back, and even at that only for two weeks. I hadn't lost weight yet at that point. And so descending the stairs was tough, but not too bad. Going up, however... I thought I was going to die. My heart has never pounded so fiercely, my gasps for air never more audible. Even with frequent rests, it was almost more than I could manage. A friend walking the trail with us took one look at my face and, concern etched across hers, asked if I was okay. I was most assuredly not. I finally did manage the trek, completely worn to a frazzle.

The second time we visited the park in March, during mom's visit, I had every intention of walking the trail, but for the little inconvenience of a recently sprained ankle. It was decided I would not attempt the trek (one of my wiser decisions), and so I had a lovely 45 minute wait for the family up at the check-in desk, comfortably ensconced in one of the twin rocking chairs overlooking the view.

We took my aunt to the park this last week, what is very likely our last visit there. My ankle mended, I decided I wanted one last chance to see the gorgeous waterfalls. I will say that the steps were not made for people with short legs, as walking down them takes about two of my steps to every one of someone else's of a more average height. No matter. We saw the big waterfall, and enjoyed having the place to ourselves for a long time before seeing any other tourists. The big test of my recent weight loss and fitness level loomed.

The staircase to heaven, or so it seemed. The mountain of my previous trek.

I began the climb at a rapid pace and continued all the way to the top without a single pause. My heart was rapidly beating, but after all, stair-climbing is an excellent cardio workout! I was breathing hard, but not laboriously. I never once experienced the sensation of light-headedness, as I had before.
Thanks to the 15 pounds I've lost, and the miles I walk every week, I have attained a new level of fitness I've not seen in many, many years.

I may never climb an actual mountain, but it is due more to the fact that I am terrified of heights than because of ability. But making that trek without stopping, without feeling like I was going to die is every bit as big an accomplishment for me as actually climbing a mountain would be. And so, on that Tuesday, you may well understand why I was so proud of myself. Why I felt such joy.

It was the day I climbed a mountain.