I'm a hiker*

I can do hard things. It's not an original saying, but I often tell it to myself. I have a tendency to overestimate my skills in many ways, but hiking is the one I do the most. I grew up "hiking". Well, I grew up thinking that I went on hikes. What I learned out later in life on a real hike up Mount Adams is that I enjoy casual strolls through the woods. These casual strolls are often flat in nature and involve various changes in scenery like a fallen log to climb on or an old bridge to maneuver across. "Hiking" never involved much exertion or special clothing or footwear. "Hiking" never involved a change in gradient that continued to incline to what some nature folks refer to as a "peak". I am not a hiker, but I will never say no to a hike. I still dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail and whenever I wax poetic aloud, Loren always laughs and reminds of our hellish date on Mount Adams. Like I said, I'm not a hiker*. Every true hike I have ever been on that involved special footwear has ended in me crying and saying "I hate this and I don't want to ever hike again." Somehow, I keep on hiking and pushing myself because the truth is that I want to be a hiker.

I want all the fun clothes and colorful gear. I want specialized hooks and little ropes and shoes that are specific for certain types of terrain. That's right, terrain. I now know that hikes have different terrains. I sort of thought difficulty level mostly involved "How long?" and "How steep?". Length I can do. Give me some snacks and I'm golden. My personal favorite is to sit and eat unsalted roasted peanuts in the shell and slowly eat them like a squirrel. It's kind of my heaven. In terms of steepness, well, I can't say I like super steep, but I am growing to appreciate the fact that steep means lovely things to look at while I eat my previously stated peanuts like a squirrel. My issue with steep though is the coming down part. I can go up like a slow old mule that moves at a glacial pace, but doesn't stop much. The moment I stop, I'm not continuing. Descending is where my knees like to say, "Nope." My knees aren't what they used to be. Yes, I know how old I sound. The sad part is that my knees have never been great on descents and why I will never be a world class snowboarder. Also, I probably need snowboarding skills to be a world class snowboarder, but mostly my knees have kept me from many descent related sports. 

Like I was saying, hiking isn't my thing, but I really want it to be. I married someone who loves hikes and in turn, I want to be that person who also loves hikes. Today, we hiked a volcano. The last time I hiked a volcano it ended in me crying at the peak and becoming nauseous from the gaseous odors from the top. For once, it didn't come from me. I vowed to never hike a volcano again, yet there I was, hiking up a volcano. I did it because I can do hard things. It's not my jam, and I don't really enjoy it, but I continue to attempt to push myself with hiking. This was the hardest terrain (see, I learned that!) I have ever hiked. We hiked up sand. You heard that right, UP SAND. You would put one foot forward and slide down half a foot. I wanted to turn around many times, and if I had been alone, I may have. I was with my family and I don't like giving up in front of my kids. Sometimes it's necessary for them to see you thoughtfully stop when it's doing more harm than good to continue, but for this, I needed them to see me do this. I needed to do this for me too. 

I'm not a hiker, but I can do hard things. Today I hiked a very hard thing. I hiked the Cinder Cone in Lassen Volcanic National Park. One day, I might be that person who can truthfully say "I'm a hiker", but I'm not there yet. Just like most things in life, I'm going to fake it till I make it. That's the REI tagline right? You think they will sponsor me yet?