Don’t hike Mailbox Peak.

by susansommers

On Saturday, in an effort to get outside of the house and the city, Chris and I decided to go for a hike. I offered up Mailbox Peak, and told him that it was hard. He agreed to do it anyway.

This hike is over 2 1/2 miles straight uphill. Wait, let me clarify. Uphill over tree roots and rocks (NOT trail). I might sound like I’m exaggerating, but I promise it’s true. Since I haven’t been eating, sleeping or exercising, this hike immediately seized my body. I couldn’t breathe. Actually, I realized I hadn’t been breathing for weeks, and my body was finally telling me “BREATHE DAMNIT!” Chris was doing okay then, and kept getting way ahead of me. That didn’t help my breathing, as I could feel him moving further away from me, and caring less about my outcome. The farther up we got, the thinner the air, and the foggier it became. The farther up we got, the fewer steps I could take at once. There was one part, right before we hit the rocky part of the trail, and I’m trying to climb the mountain, but I can’t see any trail. Chris is nowhere to be seen, and I can hear my breathing. Total solitude and exhaustion sweep over me, and I just begin to weep and pray. How did I get to this place of being alone? How did my marriage become a place where I was being left to fend for myself?

Throughout the hike, I kept telling myself…. “I can’t do this.” “Just make it to that point right ahead and then you can decide whether you want to walk back down or keep going.” “Just leave Chris to finish it on his own. Walk back down and wait in the car.” “If you DON’T do this, you are proving that you are not strong enough.”

Eventually we decided to climb just ahead, and we reached the peak, where an old mailbox sits above a 360-degree view. I swear to god I got teary-eyed looking at the mailbox, the finish line. The metaphor is obvious, that it takes grit and determination to prove your own self-worth. I have felt so defeated these last few weeks: how could I have been so stupid to marry someone that wasn’t actually in love with me? But this hike reminded me that I am safe, and that all is not bad. Our bodies are amazingly resilient and that we can make it day-by-day. And so for me, in this marriage, about three times a day I just want to throw my hands up and walk away. I text my sisters everyday at work: “I can’t do this. I can’t stay the whole day. I’m going to lose it.” And they remind me to take it minute-by-minute. And miraculously, I’ve made it to four days of work. If I can just push on a little further, and give it just one more baby step, at some point I will see the view and the clarity.

The way down was just as painful as the way up. We did quite a bit of running so we could use our momentum to drag us down. This was just a crappy reminder that what ever ends up happening, there will always be work to do. And I can try to run down and ignore the burning, but it’ll still be there once the hike is over. It’s been a few days and I still walk a bit funny.

What I’m still wrapping my head around is this. For me, this hike was all mental. Ya, it hurt in my body, but more than that my independence and mental toughness were really tested. Physically I was capable, but mentally I couldn’t handle it. For Chris, it was definitely more physical. I guess I had never thought about it, but possibly I am a mental learner: I get in my head, I need verbal reinforcement, etc. Chris on the other hand learns physically: by hugging, holding, etc. The journeys we go on as a couple can really teach us what we need to know about each other to help the other survive. I guess this turned out to be a Spiritual Awakening for me.