Living a life lost in translation

I decided that I wanted to take on a run through a scenic part of Taiwan.
I met with the people hosting it.
I said hi to Jonas, XiaoWei, Chris, and Andrew.
I got in a car with an angry guy named Eddie.
Very angry.
Swears a lot more than necessary.
We cut across a highway to help people who don't know how to get to the run.
We don't die.
We get to the run.
I am told how to follow the markings for the run.
Walkers are told to start.
Jonas, XiaoWei, Chris, and I all start walking.
Within five minutes I am out of breath.
Within ten minutes I can feel my muscles crying out.
Within fifteen minutes I have lost Jonas, XiaoWei, and Chris.
I walk through an orange grove.
I rest.
I walk through a bamboo forest.
I fall on my ass.
I find someone to walk with, who tells me she cheated on her first run and took a taxi to the meeting place.
I come to a canal.
I try to scale down the canal.
A Taiwanese guy named Robbie helps me back up to the top.
I climb down where appropriate.
I climb up where appropriate.
I am exhausted and only half-way done.
I take a Beer Check.
I meet Bonnie, Jason, and Tim.
Bonnie and Tim are Taiwanese. Jason is Australian.
I walk with them the rest of the way.
We walk through someone's yard.
We see chickens.
We walk through farming land.
A lady tells us in Chinese we're going the wrong way.
We go the right way.
We drink more beer.
We climb up.
And up.
And up.
We see the meeting point.
We climb down.
We are second to last, only to a couple who were taking pictures.
I see Jonas, XiaoWei, and Chris.
We drink beer.
We drive home.

My thighs have never been as angry at me as they are now. Dancers are not hikers. Dancers are trained to keep all their weight on the balls of their feet. That's insanity for a hike. I have learned my lesson. Will I go next month?