As written on my iPhone notepad, the day of the Mt. Elbert climb.
I ache.
This aching weakens and debilitates my body temporarily, but in a matter of days, it will be strengthened by the pain I am currently dueling with, as will my mind and my soul.
As of now, however, my legs are like rusty gears; their movement is choppy and slow instead of fluid and limber as usual. My lungs are like a seventy year old Chevy, the way I cough, sputter, and struggle to continue.
I blink and forcibly reopen my blue eyes, but my lids fight the action vigorously in a desperate plea for sleep.
My stomach howls; a beggars cry, a hungry wolf, a malnourished child. The only solution would be a pizza, piled inches high with green peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms, olives, and feta cheese. One pizza, all to myself.
Ahh, the ailments of a mountain climber.
But, in about two days, the appearance of my legs will have changed ever-so-slightly. They will be curved by the development of new muscles and be more slender and shapely.
The capacity of my lungs will be stretched and the time between each breath I take will increase.
My energy level will skyrocket and my spirit will be lively and zealous.
My stomach will be tighter and flatter, but will no longer feel hollow and bottomless.
Ahh, the joys of being a mountain climber.
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