I set out this morning knowing that this was my last shot to climb the mountain pass to the house we’ve vacationed at for the last two years.
Last year I could only make it a quarter of a mile up the pass that, excluding to flat sections, averages 18% for somewhere between 1.1 and 1.2 miles. To put it mildly, it’s a bear to climb but I love a good challenge.
This year I managed about 1.1 miles of the 1.5 mile climb on one occasion and eight tenths the other two. Today was my last day in Georgia and my last shot. I skipped my morning sixteen miles so I’d have the best chance at making it to the top.
Mrs. Bgddy drove behind to offer support and snap a few photos to document the event:
I started out brilliantly, keeping my pace steady to keep my breathing steady and I was still in good shape at the one mile mark. It went downhill from there. I gave it everything I had and then a little bit more and I still came up a few hundred meters short. Fear got me. I was 150 meters into the last segment and I was starting to hyperventilate. The trick is, there’s no break in that last 400-500 meters. From where I was in that last photo, there’s nothing but up, 20-25%. My legs were already starting to shake and feel a bit gooey, my breathing was spiked and I was hurting bad… So I called it good. I had nothing left:
Pulling into the driveway I would be a liar to write that I was completely satisfied with my result, but I was and still am satisfied with my effort. I’ve never worked so hard to attain a fitness goal. I’ve never pushed myself that far… But it was still just a little short. Oh well, it’s all good. I sure had a blast trying this year and I still did about five times better than last year.