For most of my 2023 trip to Colorado, I struggled both mentally and physically. If it wasn’t the lack of oxygen making it difficult to breathe, it was the anxiety making me worry about every little thing. If it wasn’t my legs burning with lactic acid, it was my brain sabotaging itself. Thoughts of self-destruction began flooding in by the end of the first week. Questions such as, “What if I ‘accidentally’ took this turn a bit too fast on the motorcycle?” and, “How would it feel to jump off this cliff? Would I land in the river or on the sharp rocks below?”
These aren’t fun questions to deal with. They’re nothing to gloat about or fantasize over. Nothing to glorify. In the moment, they provide a sense of calm reassurance. A way of saying, “You are but a blip in the grand scheme of things.” When they pass and you realize just how close you were to the cliff’s edge, however, they are terrifying.