The Fun Starts Here

The Fun Starts Here

Inspired by a newspaper clipping.

No, not here.

Not here either.

Almost there.

Full picture of the incline.
(Yes, it is that big!)

The Bottom!

Okay, here. A newspaper clipping with the words "The Fun Starts Here" reminded me of the time I did the incline with my godmother, Wendy. The fact that I even thought of the incline when pondering what to write about for 'fun' is pretty ironic. The incline is about a mile long, which does not seem too bad except for the fact that it is entirely uphill. My godmother, who happens to be a health nut that is into exercise and healthy eating and all of that great stuff, convinced me to do the incline one morning with her and her husband, Mark. We set our alarms for too-early in the morning, and made our way up the mountains into Manitou. After spending a long time trying to find a parking spot, we finally parked at the bottom of a hill and made our way up to entrance of the incline. After taking a few pictures that would be used to document my first time, we started on up the path of what seemed like never-ending stairs. Around the 20th step, I started to reconsider. My heart was already pounding and I was struggling to catch my breath. Needless to say, I am a little unhealthy. Water in hand, I close my eyes tight and walk up a few more stairs, trying to pretend I am somewhere else. Time for a break already. My godfather walks on, while my godmother stayed behind to motivate me. Eventually I gather up the strength to continue on up the stairs, Wendy beside me occasionally pep-talking me, "You can do it Shay! Just think of how proud of yourself you'll be when you finish." Unfortunately for her, I was not a fun work out buddy. I pulled off to the side of the trail many times-- meeting new people along the way trying to motivate each other. After about 30 minutes I was ready to give up. Sweating and panting, I begin to lose hold on my emotions. I rolled my shirt up, not caring about anyone else seeing me. Many times I began to cry and if it was not for Wendy's constant pep-talks, I would have been done long before. She went ahead of me after we got to the false summit (a place on the incline that looks as if it's the top, then you get to the top and realize you still have a little ways to go. It is cruel. And the only reason I even found out about it was when someone asked my godmother if the point they could see was the end or the false summit. My godmother did not want to tell me there was such a thing. Imagine my excitement.) I started to walk, taking breaks when I needed to. Without anyone there to get mad at me for stopping I continued to push myself, eventually I began crawling up the stairs on my hands and knees. I remember seeing people off on the side puking, and just wanting to get up and away from them. I made myself run up a few more steps, until I could no longer move and at that point I could finally see the end-- flags hung high above and people mingled around the finish. I believe it took about 2 hours for me to finish the incline--definitely not a good time-- however I was so proud of myself when I got to the top I cried again, this time in happiness.

Top of the incline- SO PROUD!

I wobbled my way to an area in the shade beneath a tree, collapsing into the grass. After drinking some water and catching my breath, my godmother took pictures of me at the finish line. I remember feeling so proud of myself. Wendy, Mark, and even some of the people I met along the way were telling me what a good job I had done. This was most likely one of the hardest things I have ever pushed myself through. My legs felt like jell-o and I was covered in dirt. As I made my way down Barr trail by myself (Wendy and Mark decided to jog down, needless to say I did not want to join them) I realized how much I really missed the mountains. I am not, in any way shape or form, an outside person. I dislike bugs, sunburns, dirt, and basically every aspect of being outdoors. However, for the 20-30 minutes it took for me to walk down the trail, I took my time. I wanted to remember what it was like to enjoy the sun on my face, to admire Colorado from up above. I remember wishing I had my phone to take pictures-- there were views from that trail that took my breath away. There is not a time in my life where I remember completely loving looking at nature. When I got to the bottom I took a deep breath and captured the moment. I remember seeing Wendy waiting for me at the bottom. After taking a few more pictures, Wendy and I made our way to the gift shop while Mark went to go get food, and I now own a t-shirt that has Manitou incline facts on it, and also a bumper sticker that says "I survived the Manitou Incline." (This was one of my favorite souvenirs because I honestly felt like I deserved it.)

My bumper sticker, aka: my trophy.

Since then I have not gone a day without thinking of the mountains. I long to go back to Colorado so I can admire the beautiful view again. I also have not done any kind of activity that put me under as much physical and emotional stress since then, although I have considered doing it again when I go back up there next summer. (My godmother was right-- the whole way up I promised myself I would never do it again, and she told me I would want to after I finally got to the top.) This was definitely a learning experience for me, and I am grateful that I had the opportunity to do it.


Manitou Incline Facts

• Length: Approx. .88 miles (1.42 km) 
• Highest point: Peak, 8,590 feet (2,620 m)
• Lowest point: Base, 6,500 feet (2,000 m)
• Difficulty: Extreme
• Record Time: 16:42 by professional tri-athlete Mark Fretta
• It gets as steep as 68% in some places