...the goal has been achieved and no matter where you sit, some pointy rock edge is jamming you in the ass - it gets cold and windy and chances are a storm will roll in before too long. Before the journey down the mountain is even over, you find yourself already craving another and reminiscing about the journey up, almost wishing you were still headed in that direction.
Right around mile 22 is when things started to go south. I was grinding up a hill, seemingly on the path to Mordor based on the heat and the terrain, when I encountered a hiker. Two runners who kept passing me, sitting to rest until I passed them, only to pass me again, were coming up to pass me for perhaps the 37th time.
Leave it to a songwriter to describe the purpose trail running serves for me better than I can myself...
While my unconscious has been busy processing all the disruption in my life, my ego went hog wild, partying and breaking valuables. It's not all that surprising, but while I was in it, I just knew I was miserable and couldn't figure out how to get out of it. That's when I remembered. I have a say in the matter.