Last week I attempted to hike up Mount Timpanogos---the stunning mountain that looms over Provo and has been calling my name ever since I had a post-card view of it from my 7th-floor dorm room Freshman year. We left at midnight, aiming to reach the summit in time to watch the sun rise.
I was a ball of fire until about 5:00 a.m. With only a couple more hours to go, the fact that I would normally have been sleeping at this time hit me like a ton of bricks. Crazy how fatigued you can get after being awake for 24 hours. Just add scrambling over rocks and ice for several miles, and you've got yourself a straight up zombie. Named Sarah. Who could no longer see straight nor lift her foot high enough to clear a pine needle.
So, as much as it kills me to admit it, I headed back down the mountain (after collapsing in a bush and eating the breakfast burrito I had planned to enjoy in the company of the sunrise). Those who know me understand that it seriously pains me to not finish something that I've started. I felt LAME. Which is why I am here, one week later, preparing to do it all over again! It's like childbirth. You magically forget how much it sucked the first time. Perhaps this is one reason why I feel so close to God. He always seems to be right in the middle of our throws of pain and peaks of joy.
Tomorrow I plan on sleeping as soon as I get home from church and taking off up that blasted mountain some time during the night. And as a Labor Day gift to myself, I will conquer it.
Good luck!
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