At the time of this post, one year ago, I was scrambling down Mount Shasta, minutes away from completing one of the most difficult feats in my life. A feat I had the honor of achieving with one of my best friends @ryansneller
It took every shred of grit I could muster.
Near 7AM we crested on a ridge after waking up at 3AM, gaining only three hours of fitful sleep, and spending four hours crawling and gasping our way up a slope seemingly inspired by Frodo and Sam's wretched treck up Mount Doom. I felt my heart cleave in two and I began crying. On one hand it was one of the most brilliant sights I had ever beheld, but my body felt broken and spent beyond measure.
In that moment I felt shattered. Shattered that I wasn't going conquer the summit. Shattered that my dream, years in the making, was slipping from my grasp. I recall gazing out at the summit jutting spectacularly above the world and telling Ryan, "I'm not going to make it." And I prodded him to summit without me.
But for a while we waited, absorbing every facet of the moment, the pain, the grandeur, the magnitude of what we had achieved so far. Softly, deep inside me, I felt the murmur of an inexplicable emotion. A biting rage that quickly exploded into a flame. In that instant, I swore to myself: I hadn't come this far to only come this far. And somewhere, somehow, I found the ability to flip a switch. A switch that rallied me to my feet and jolted me with the sheer will to dig deeper.
Together, hours later, we shared the inexplicable wonder of summiting Mount Shasta.
If the journey wasn't challenging then the destination wouldn't be rewarding. #AllHeart #DigDeeper