Taking on the Manitou Springs Incline for the first time at age 49 wasn’t my original plan. I was planning to conquer the beast when I hit 50.

Yet there I stood at the base of The Incline in early February, a month before my 50th birthday, ready to take on the most challenging set of stairs not mentioned in a Led Zeppelin song.

The Incline goal wasn’t a New Year’s resolution or a bet or dare. I’ve rarely kept a resolution, don’t gamble (I’m just a poor journalist.) and I won’t take the bait if you call me a chicken. Issue me a challenge and I’m more likely to tell you to make like a tree and hit the road than actually comply.

Instead, the mission to complete the Incline at age 50 was more symbolic. A signal to myself that I still had “it.” That I wasn’t over the hill, that I could still push myself to the limit physically, that I wasn’t old… yet. Plenty of gray hair may make me look old, but I don’t feel old. At least I don’t when I’m sitting or laying down. And after all, 50 is the new 30, right? Right?

To be honest, significant birthday milestones never held any meaning for me. Thirty? No biggie. Forty? Yawn. But for some reason 50 seemed like a big deal, so to honor its significance I was going to do something I told myself I’d never do — hike the Incline.

I’ve known plenty of people that have completed it but it never appealed to me. And after all, how hard could it be? My wife is two years older than me and she’s done the Incline several times. Sure, she works out six days a week and has a healthy diet but I was an athlete. In high school. I’m sure I can summon that athletic prowess whenever I want. It’s just like riding a bike. Or at least that’s what I thought. My body had other ideas.

In August 2020, my wife and I visited her family in the middle of nowhere New Hampshire. While putzing around in the lake near the family cabin, I noticed something strange. I was having a hard time holding my breath while swimming. This was a new sensation and quite troubling.

Of course I did what most men would do in this situation — I figured the problem would work itself out and I’d be fine. Except it didn’t and I wasn’t. The problem persisted, becoming even worse and for the first time in my adult life I became truly concerned about my health. I never had any health issues before, I’ve never even had my tonsils removed, so visiting a pulmonologist and having an echocardiogram was frightening. In six months I visited a doctor more times than I had in the previous 10 years. And it was my own damn fault.

Years of being sedentary and eating like I was still a teenager had caught up with me. At one particular doctor’s appointment I learned I had high blood pressure and asthma. I was also the heaviest I’d ever been. I felt defeated, lost and scared. I had kicked my own ass.

At this point I felt I had two options. I could continue what I was doing and eventually apply to be a cast member on “My 600 lb. Life” or I would get my head out of the sand and do something about the situation.

Since I don’t like anyone telling me what to do, not even my own body, I decided it was time to make some changes. A diligent exercise regimen was a big part of the plan, which soon led my 50th birthday goal, the Manitou Incline. Conquering it would be a sign that my health was headed in the right direction.

A few months later, thanks to the encouragement of my wife and sister, my sherpas for the day, I found myself at the top of the Incline. I had completed something that once seemed out of reach. But more importantly, I had proved to myself that I wasn’t old … yet. I just had to make sure I worked as hard on myself as I do at my job.

While beating the Incline is a huge personal accomplishment, I still have a ways to go to get where I need to be. I’m just like everyone else, a work in progress.