In the beginning God created the heavens an the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters....
A long string of lights pulsed through the darkness below like a battalion of fireflies all in a row. My labored breath and the steady plod of boots the only sound in the stillness of the early morning. It's cold at 12,000 feet. The trail difficult to follow with only our small head torches to light the path. Doubts fill my mind. Can I even do this with my lungs? Am I even on the trail? It is so hard to know. I turn off my light and gaze heavenward to the expanse of stars above. It's beautiful and reassuring. The sky is a constant friend. My breathing slows and I turn my light back on a proceed upwards and onwards. Time slows. I'm doing it. I am. No turning back now.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
The inky blackness finally begins to lighten in the east. I see what looks like turrets of castles silhouetted against the purplish grey sky. My step steadies as the pre-dawn begins to reveal the rocky path. With the added light I find my breath quiets. It's still cold though. A bit of snot drips off my nose and I wipe it off with the back of my glove.
I see people on the trail before us now. A long line of Asians. Are they tourists? Some look quite green while others struggle to breath. They lean into the rocky wall to let us pass by. We hand out some Jolly Ranchers. "Sugar helps", we tell them. I smile. I feel stronger now and then the realization rushes in that it is only in comparison that I validate myself. I don't want to be the kind of person that needs others to fail to make me feel great.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
I can see below us now and it's amazing; to the west are lakes, jagged mountains, bits of snow. We climbed a long way in the darkness. Looking down, I realize that the trail had some perilous drop offs and I didn't even know. I'm kind of glad I didn't know. The sky above has wisps of pink flags unfurling and I hurry my steps. It's coming. I want to get there in time.
The view opens up and the path curves around a hill on what feels like the top of the world. Grey jagged boulders abound. We jog. I'm jogging at 14,000 feet. I think back to last winter when walking the 16 blocks to Starbucks seemed like a big thing. I think of the diagnosis the lung doctor gave me in the spring and I'm now thankful for it because it was the impetus to get me moving. To get me living.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
We make is just in time and it feels like the beginning of all time. At least it does for me.
Follow this link for the beginning post on our backpacking trip on the John Muir Trail. The high point for me was the finish on Mount Whitney. To read the whole journey look on the pages right margin under blog archives and follow the John Muir Trail links.
A long string of lights pulsed through the darkness below like a battalion of fireflies all in a row. My labored breath and the steady plod of boots the only sound in the stillness of the early morning. It's cold at 12,000 feet. The trail difficult to follow with only our small head torches to light the path. Doubts fill my mind. Can I even do this with my lungs? Am I even on the trail? It is so hard to know. I turn off my light and gaze heavenward to the expanse of stars above. It's beautiful and reassuring. The sky is a constant friend. My breathing slows and I turn my light back on a proceed upwards and onwards. Time slows. I'm doing it. I am. No turning back now.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
The inky blackness finally begins to lighten in the east. I see what looks like turrets of castles silhouetted against the purplish grey sky. My step steadies as the pre-dawn begins to reveal the rocky path. With the added light I find my breath quiets. It's still cold though. A bit of snot drips off my nose and I wipe it off with the back of my glove.
I see people on the trail before us now. A long line of Asians. Are they tourists? Some look quite green while others struggle to breath. They lean into the rocky wall to let us pass by. We hand out some Jolly Ranchers. "Sugar helps", we tell them. I smile. I feel stronger now and then the realization rushes in that it is only in comparison that I validate myself. I don't want to be the kind of person that needs others to fail to make me feel great.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
I can see below us now and it's amazing; to the west are lakes, jagged mountains, bits of snow. We climbed a long way in the darkness. Looking down, I realize that the trail had some perilous drop offs and I didn't even know. I'm kind of glad I didn't know. The sky above has wisps of pink flags unfurling and I hurry my steps. It's coming. I want to get there in time.
The view opens up and the path curves around a hill on what feels like the top of the world. Grey jagged boulders abound. We jog. I'm jogging at 14,000 feet. I think back to last winter when walking the 16 blocks to Starbucks seemed like a big thing. I think of the diagnosis the lung doctor gave me in the spring and I'm now thankful for it because it was the impetus to get me moving. To get me living.
Just put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself, that is all you have to do.
We make is just in time and it feels like the beginning of all time. At least it does for me.
 |
| Top of Mount Whitney, August 2012
|
Comments
Post a Comment
We love your comments or questions. Have a great day and live a good life.