The planet curves at the edge of the wide open plains surrounding us, plunges deep into otherworldly canyons, or rises steeply up towards untouchable heights.
COCONINO COUNTY leaves nothing to the imagination. I think that's why we see everything so clearly here. All our thoughts, ideas, and conversations are naturally grounded by the gravity of this place, and I don't remember ever being more present than this moment, driving out of the GRAND CANYON.
I'm overwhelmed by the sense that this might be the best day of my life so far, and now that I'm rehydrated after the race, I can finally cry again. My experience at BLACK CANYON three days prior is reduced to a point of reference. I no longer relive it. Whatever residual pain residing within me is all mine now and will probably always be there. Some scars never heal, but I'm lucky to have chosen most of mine.
However, SYNNE and I talk about how much my running means to me and that these wounds I inflict upon myself might cut deeper than what I can take in the long run. We talk about what sharing these experiences means to us. We talk about the idea of a cabin in the woods. It's funny how we always circle back to that. Until I met her, I honestly believed that life wasn't for me.
I thought I should balance the "burdens" of my life with running on the same scale just because I could have them all weigh the same. I thought I had to have some of everything to be balanced, but now I find myself emotionally lopsided by the disproportionate relationship between what I want to do, and what I think I have to do.
It's the cliché of coming to a crossroads and not knowing where to go, but when we get to GRAND CANYON JUNCTION, we take a left. Route 80 lays bare in front of us, snaking itself through the wild backcountry northwest of FLAGSTAFF. HUMPHREY'S PEAK looms on the horizon. The giant snow-covered pyramid reflects the sunset and serves as a lighthouse, guiding us back "home".
Our cathartic drive through AMERICA is as if straight out of a BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN song, but as darkness falls on our final stretch, we're listening to PHIL COLLINS and GENESIS and singing along to...
"Listen, you know I love you, but I just can't take this
You know I love you, but I'm playing for keeps
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this
You know I want to, but I'm in too deep"
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