500 Days

Not a week ago I was on a bike ride through my home, Denver, on a particularly exhausting day, thinking back to my last milestone…and then the one before it, and the one before it, and…

Before I got too far down that thread, I found myself dumbfounded with just how much time had passed since I started, how much energy I’d invested, how much I’d grown.

On days like this one, my weary mind draws vivid scenes of struggle and sacrifice — trials and triumph. That day’s was like many others: breathing heavily, urging dully aching muscles to move harder and faster; hands and knees, crawling at an excruciating pace up the ever taller mountain; every muscle flexed, a small challenge — every inch moved, a minor victory. And as the time lapse layered onto the unfolding scene, adding a growing depth to the weighty, arduous slog to the horizon, every pedal stroke felt heavier — those precious inches became more dear, more valuable.

To keep going for 500 consecutive days was incomprehensible until that moment: but it was now in sight. The mountain suddenly seemed shorter from where I paused along my crawl to the top. Above me, wispy clouds and fresh air — nothing holding me down. Below me, miles of memories and hard-fought battles — elevating me to my heights, with enough momentum to propel me to the stars and beyond.

It was all the reminder I needed that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to — that I can make the seemingly impossible, possible in my life.

In the past, that weariness may have dragged me down — it may have conspired to hold me back, to keep me treading water, to suspend me in space and time.

But no more.

Somewhere along the way I found my voice, my courage — a determination unlike any I’d known. My legs march to my goal as my voice thunders a battle hymn. No matter my weariness, I drive to the horizon, eagerly, energetically.

I’ve no interest in stopping. I’ve only interest in seeing what more I can discover at ever taller heights and atop the neighboring peaks. To explore the limits of my understanding and abilities and to adventure to places unknown.

For 500 days, and counting.

The very thought brings me joyful tears and makes me ache for the next step on this road. That sort of ache, as though felt from a distance, which lures the curious toward its source. The same curious who feel the source is somehow familiar and yet entirely unknown — a deja vu for an event which hasn’t happened yet. Anticipation for the next destined step.

As ever, I hope to make as many memories as I can and share the stories with as many as wish to listen. I couldn’t be more thankful for the last 500 days: the time I’ve been able to spend learning what I love, the people I’ve been able to share the experiences with, and the love for and connection with nature and the world around me I’ve been able to experience.

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