Pyrenees sky, Spain

Duude, this trek killed me. First, we will talk about thin air, it exists and hides in the highest mountains 🤣😂

This place is all beautiful, especially the sky, which was one of the things that gave me the most strength to finish the trekking that taught me respect for nature, but Respect, Respect.

You see, I always liked treking and respected nature. I never left my garbage, I picked some up along the way, cursed those who didn’t, things like that. But on this trek, I learned the respect that comes from pain. It is a different, more powerful respect that fills the lung with fear and the stomach with courage.

There were several trails there but the most important to me was one that was 2,928 meters high, +/- 10 hours of hiking to the top, and then 7 descing.

The way up is ok 😒, but the problem was the way down. After sleeping without taking my socks out 🤦🏽‍♀️ don’t judge me, I was really tired, waking up and putting my boots on without changing it, was a bad idea. After a little bit of walking, it started to look like sandpaper, each step was like rubbing sand in raw flesh, and the descent was all rocky. Duuuuude, sooo painful!

And worse, in the middle of the way my knee decided to be competitive, started to hurt like hell to see if I could hurt more than my foot. FML

When I finally managed to finish the trek, I sat in the car with my feet full of blisters on top of blisters, my socks dry and hard from so much dried blood, my knees hurting so much that it looked like I had a jackhammer on top.

I looked at the mountain expecting to feel hatred, everything in my body was hurting.
But what I felt was respect. A lot of respect. As if it were an entity right there, looking back at me. And then there was a pride, a feeling of capacity that was beautiful.

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