The Trail

The trail is just the beginning.

Let me start with an intro... I have spent the majority of my life hiding. Too afraid to do anything that may make me embarrassed, look stupid, or uncomfortable at all. Currently, I go to bed by 9:00, making sure to take my anti-depressants beforehand. I wake up at 6:00 AM. Take energy supplements so I can make it through the day. Go to the job I have been working at for 4 years and knock out information and projects I could do in my sleep. Usually around 2:00 I start to get tired and find more caffeine to consume. Come home, watch TV, eat dinner, wash my face, and go to bed by 9:00.

Yes, I would consider that "artificial living." I'm here, I'm getting up and doing- but not really doing anything. I'm okay with my life and my habits. And yet, I still go to bed at night wanting more.

Many people out there would say that taking antidepressants is wrong. "You are dulling your emotions! Just feel." Those people may not know that you don't feel anything when you are depressed. There is... nothing. I had been living that way for a good 4 years before I realized it. Now that I am taking action and not consumed with "the blues" I have finally decided to live my life. One of my favorite books to read is The Ultramarathon Man, by Dean Karnazes. Sure this guy is a freak, his runs ranging from a marathon on the North Pole, to a 50 miler in the dessert, to 199 miles across the country.  You don't really get the "freak" vibe from him. All you feel is the level of commitment this guy puts into living every single day. I'm no longer satisfied with just getting up and doing.

That is where the trail comes in. I have never been a hiker, though I may have claimed such a thing when listing my hobbies. Today I was going to go hiking. The weather wasn't great, about 60 degrees, not a breath of wind, with a storm hovering in the horizon. None of this mattered, I was going hiking. The start of anything is pretty easy, the excitement pumping keeps you going. Just when I thought I was getting bored I would come out of the trees to an open ledge over looking the snow capped mountains. I passed a total of eight hikers, five bikers, and four dogs. Not too bed eh. After a good hour of just following along I started to wonder if I would get anywhere. What was the point of all this if I didn't get to the top of the mountain and look over my accomplishment? Life doesn't always give you such luxury. As if to prove the point, it started raining. Maybe to prove another point, I hit a beautiful waterfall. Standing there in the rain, with my arms spread out, watching the water fall, was the most alive I have felt in years.

Time to head home before I froze. I was already soaked and moving at a hiking pace wasn't generating much body heat. I started to run. At first it was just moving to get to my car faster. Then it became something beautiful... My stride was strong as I watched for rocks and mud, my breathing was even as I pushed my body along. In my head I was singing over and over (would have been out loud if I hadn't been panting!) I passed some trail hippies. Hiding out under the trees, laughing at everything around them. I contemplated befriending them, but what they had couldn't compare to what I was experiencing. My high was real. My feet were soaked, my legs covered in mud, I was really starting to realize how dangerous running on the hill side in the mud could be, the bottoms of my feet sore from the pounding. Then a line from the Ultramarathon Man popped in my head "If it doesn't hurt, you're not doing it right."

Back to the bridge finally. I slowly walked to my car, feeling amazing- albeit wet, cold, sore, and hungry. That is when I decided to start writing again. Sure, I could fill one of my dozen notebooks up with this useless information. But maybe, just MAYBE, if I shared my experiences I would touch someone with the same problem.

So within living "artificially" I will find the Art to living.

Until the next adventure
Alexis3