This Year, Not Next

I Climbed that mountain. On a whim in September, I got up early one morning and walked my big ol' butt on up to the top. It wasn't easy. It wasn't quick. But I ascended the 4,000 feet to reach the summit at 11,750 ft. I still enjoy that feat becuase on why I did it.

I told myself that I would not spend another winter looking at that mountain, telling myself that "next year" after the snow melts, I would do it.

Now when I see the snowy cliffs, I say "I did that." It feels good. And for a chronic procrastinator such as I am, that's a mountain climbed in and of itself.