Our muscles, which had gone from cold and shaky, were now hot and trembling. The shift in elevation, the pace, and even more the anticipation had contributed to our condition of tiredness, excitement, desperation and delight. We were almost at the top. We’d start the morning out exploring below sea level, with flippers on our feet, and masks covering our face. The water was cold, murky, any mystical. After a meat pie and hot coffee, we trudged on and up, up and on, willing ourselves to keep moving forward.
So much of life feels that way now. But, rather than a majestic view expressed with a sigh of relief at the top, there is question of success, and the many deliberations to wade through while hoping and praying, wishing the answers are written somewhere on some wall. One week from tomorrow, we will have reached the peak. It will be another six to eights later that hopefully the view will become some what more clear. With all of that being said, it is worth taking a moment right now to be grateful for all that has been able to accomplished up until this point, take a deep a breath, and keep moving forward.