Progress?

My boyfriend and training partner Johnny and I did a ride we do a lot, up to this random two-story tall rock sitting in this field at the top of Lucas Valley Road. You can't miss the rock, and I'm sure it has a real name, but I like to refer to it as the dreaded rock, or Mount Random Rock, not to be redundant.
I dread the rock because it's at the top of a hill and the climb isn't fun for someone not yet in biking shape -- though I'm always glad to see the rock when I finally get there. I have no idea how long or steep the road leading to the rock is, but at this early stage in my training, it feels like 15 miles straight up. John says the whole ride from his house to the top of the rock and back, is only 17 miles total, so that's impossible. But it still feels like it.
The first time I did the climb, it was July 4th. And I had grand plans of riding from John's to Point Reyes Station even though I hadn't been on my bike since pre-surgery sometime in early March. Unfortunately it was 90 + degrees outside when we left the house. And about 1/2 way up to the dreaded hill, I had to pull over. And not just pull over, but potentially pass out. I sat down on the scratchy dirt in this tiny patch of shade provided by a scratchy tree, and fought through the big dark cloud that was stifling my vision.
A nice car with two attractive foreign biking men -- possibly Swiss -- stopped to ask if I was OK. They'd even passed on the curvy hilly road and then turned around to check. That was nice, though as I was sweating and ill and generally not feeling attractive. John thought it was nice, too. I assured them I was fine but it took me 15 minutes before I could get on my bike. I finished the climb, but we only made it Nicasio, still 13 miles from Point Reyes, before I had to turn around. The ride home was hard, needless to say.
So that was my introduction to Mount Random Rock, which leaves me with an enormouse sense of accomplishment every time I mount it now, if you know what I mean. I've crested that hill three times since and it is starting to feel better.
But this time, I made more progress by keeping up with John on the flats. He charges the hill, and there's no way I'm keeping up with him there yet. But he swore to me he was riding at his normal pace on the flats this week and I kept up.
It was a baby step, but an important one. I can't be a great training partner if he has to slow down for me all of the time. So the results are a big triumph -- a two-story, random, rock-sized triumph.