October 19, 2019
Antigua, Guatemala

Today marks the 4-month anniversary of my departure from the U.S. and the beginning of my travel adventures and transformational journey. Seems fitting to write about how I spent my day, especially since it’s still a fresh wound.

I’ve just come from doing the hardest thing I have ever done. Yesterday we left for the popular 2-day Volcano Acatenango hike. This hike takes you up the 3rd highest peak in Guatemala, an elevation increase of about 1.2 meters/3,900 feet, were you camp at almost 4,000 meters, approximately 13,000 feet, and spend an evening captivated by Volcano Fuego spitting ash & lava all night. Day 2 of this hike has you up and departing camp at 4:30 am for the final 400 meters/quarter mile to summit Acatenango and watch the sunrise over Fuego and the valley below.

 

I did not enjoy this hike. It was so fucking hard, I wanted to quit every step of the way. I did my best to relax, appreciate my surroundings and wipe the pained look off my face but I struggled so hard to move my feet and breath at the same time, it was difficult to remember that hiking is a passion of mine. Until yesterday I believed there was no such thing as a bad hike, now I’m not so sure. Perhaps this hike was meant to teach me something important that I will understand later, when every muscle between my waist and ankles are no longer sore.

I did not summit Acatenago. I was up and moving at 4:30 am with everyone else but I could’t finish. After 15 minutes of battling to breathe, I quit and walked back down to basecamp alone. I watched the sunrise over Fuego feeling like a failure. This hike made me feel inadequate in every way possible. I wasn’t fit enough, I couldn’t carry my own backpack, I couldn’t keep up with my group, I couldn’t even be the person that didn’t care that I was the slowest and to top it off, I was the only quitter, the only one missing from the photo at the top. Right now I do not feel any sense of accomplishment for doing the hike, I feel disappointed by a shitty performance.

 

I want to say that I would never have done the hike had I known what I was in for but those words are useless. I DID hike Acatenago and while i’m still consumed with feelings of not enoughness and inferiority for not reaching the summit, I also had the unbelievable experience of listening to the sounds of a volcano erupting, watching lava and plumes of ash shoot out the top of a mountain, seeing and abundance of stars in the night sky, watching the sunrise at 13,000 feet, doing the hardest hike of my life in perfect weather and enjoying phenomenal views. Maybe in a month or two I’ll be more appreciative about the the way my teacher taught me what I was meant to learn…

2 thoughts on “A Fresh Wound

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