1st draft

Can’t sleep, cold, and flustered. Waking up in a tent four feet by four feet isn’t necessarily ideal when you are planning on getting beauty sleep. Low on oxygen and lower on energy, the last thing I want to do is to trek six hours up an incline that most professional skiers find themselves going down.
Out of the tent to congregate with the group, we learn our route, and try to stomach a low grade mountain meal. The enthusiasm shown by everyone can merely be described as cynical. Once we leave our camp, the pain follows. I try to escape the trek by floating away with my iPod, but by day three, nothing seems to be escaping the ground. My family has always been an outdoors family, with the exception of me. I’ve always been the one asking for a somewhat relaxing vacation every once and a while rather than one that forces me to push myself to the limit.
After hydrating thoroughly, everyone seems to catch a second wind. We hike and hike until we feel as though everyone deserves a rest.
The top is near, everyone is exhausted, and all I can think about is the way down. I know that I can push myself further, but I am happy that I have been able to accomplish something so intense. My ears begin to pop ferociously as we near the summit, and the complaining ceases. We reach the top before any other groups do, and the view is unforgettable. Being atop Africa is something that many kids can’t say they’ve done.
At that moment, I realized my accomplishment and never asked for a relaxing vacation again.