I’ve finished my round of antibiotics. The wheezing in my lungs is almost gone. I can take a deep breath now without feeling like I have a fist-sized rock in my right lung. Yay!!! Now it’s a matter of getting myself back on track exercise-wise and head-wise. Should be simple. But I admit, I’ve enjoyed evenings resting on the couch rather than going to the gym. Trying to get back into shape now sounds about as appealing as scrubbing out toilets at a Frat house.

But, hey, I’ve a mountain to climb. So last Thursday I hauled my weakened carcass out to the river trail and walked two miles. Way too far. With still a half mile to go, I was hurting, trembling, feeling sorry for myself, and cursing life in general. After spending the weekend coughing out all the crud in my lungs, I tried it again on Monday, this time on the treadmill in the gym so I could stop if things got the better of me. I had determined that dressing up in my gym clothes was totally not necessary, that I could not possibly break a sweat while merely walking, so there I was on the treadmill in my red sweater, jeans, and pretty red beaded jewelry, garnering more than one raised eyebrow from fellow exercisers. Did I say I broke a sweat?

Today I’m in the Tacoma/Seattle area. I’ve got an equipment list as long as my arm, everything from headlamps to long woolie underwear. I spent yesterday at REI in Tacoma. Did you know you can easily drop $175 for a set of long woolie underwear? I had no idea. (This may be the big lesson in all of this mountain climbing stuff — that I had no idea.) In a little while I’m heading to the REI in Seattle (bigger selection) to hopefully find some boots that love my feet (oh, please), a tiring process even when I am in shape. Later today, I’ll hit the treadmill again. This time in my gym clothes. Oh yes. I’m back on track.