Ouch...

So day two of pain, which I'm told may still get worse yet. What, may you ask, has caused this pain? A very long hike on Sunday, resulting in sore legs and even more sore back, thanks to a lovely sunburn I obtained on the hike down. My very dear friend suggested that we hike up Mt. Eldon, something I had never done before. We had been standing in the parking lot of Salsa Brava when she suggested it, and I looked up at the mountain and said, "Sure! Sounds like fun!" So we agreed to meet up about 7am on Sunday morning with snacks and water and I would borrow some hiking boots from her and we would be on our way. Clearly, I did not fully think this through. Which is perhaps a good thing, because I had I done so, I may not have been so quick to agree. But in spite of it all, I am glad I did it. So Sunday comes, we find ourselves running a little late, but by 7:45 we're ready to start out. It wasn't supposed to be too hot that day, and it began as a rather cool morning. We start the hike with her dog, who guilted her into being brought along, and found the first mile went rather quickly. Only at that time did I think to ask how long it was. I found out it was a five mile hike total, if we made it all the way to the very top. Even then, I didn't think much of it. After all, walking five miles isn't bad. What I failed to take into consideration, however, was the incline. It turns out that the two and a half miles up the mountain include gaining nearly 3,000 feet in elevation. And about 2/3 of the way up, I began realizing what exactly I had gotten myself into. As we turn another corner and see yet another steep switch-back, the only things that kept me going were stubbornness (I had come more than half-way, damn it, I wasn't giving up!) and, when that failed, the knowledge that by that point, it was closer to go up than back down. And every time my friend pointed out the top as we got closer and said, "See? It's not that much further," I countered with, "That still looks like a long way away..." Which it was. In spite of the people we passed who said we weren't far from the top. And who said, "Once you get to the saddle, it's pretty gentle grade the rest of the way up." Gentle my ass! (Yes, there was also a lot of swearing to get me up to the top as well... I had read an article that said a scientific study found that swearing helps you deal with pain, and I certainly believe it). I had never before done a hike that intense. I've hiked before, even fairly long distances before, but never anything that far up. And I haven't done any hiking of any kind in the past two years. Boston is pretty much flat, and I hadn't been out of the city much. So needless to say, convincing my legs to keep climbing became a bit of a challenge. It wasn't so much that they hurt then, or even necessarily felt tired. It just felt as if they were refusing to move. My slight consolation is that as we met people on the way up, they did admit that it was a difficult hike. But somehow I had it in my head that it was supposed to be no big deal. Now, however, I know better. Once we reached the top (okay, so once I reached the top, as my friend was already up there waiting for me), I was so thankful to be able to sit and recover a bit. However, the view of the city from there is actually pretty ugly. Oh well, at least on the other side we had a nice view of other mountains. The way down was better, but going down a steep, narrow path with loose dirt and rocks in many places presented its own set of challenges. And by that time, we were already into the hottest part of the day (which turned out hotter than anticipated), with most of the trail in the direct sun. And I hadn't brought the sunscreen with to re-apply. Somehow I forgot that it doesn't last forever. So now I have a lovely burn line in the shape of the Camelback I had on. Oh, and we ran out of water on the way down. Needless to say, I was thankful to finally see the car. We all were. Probably the dog most of all. He was panting so hard the entire car shook. When I got home, I was only able to stagger in, wash the thick layer of dirt off my face, and fall into bed, not to move for about an hour. That evening, I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain, and thought it may have been more just an energy draining hike than an ass-kicking hike. Yesterday morning I found out how wrong I was. Ouch. And it's hard to say which was a worse pain, the legs or the sunburn. (For those of you who don't know, I'm normally extremely pale, so I burn quickly and badly.) Even having the burn covered, it still hurts to have the heat of the sun on it, which makes going outside during the day difficult. It hurts to even have it covered, because that means something is touching it. It hurts to lay down, which makes sleeping rather difficult. It hurts to move my arms because that means the burnt skin is being stretched and it rubs against the fabric covering it. But I suppose it wouldn't be a summer spent in Arizona without at least one burn...
Okay, I think I'm done whining about this now.