Through it all, quitting smoking is one of the hardest things I have ever done. And I have done my share of hard things. It took several, white-knuckled tries to get it right, even once I had become a person who very much wanted to quit. But being that person first was, for me, the most important part.
In the years since, I’ve run four marathons, two ultramarathons, completed an Olympic distance triathlon, two half-ironman triathlons (despite not really knowing how to swim), and climbed many mountains.
Each one of those endeavors has given me belief in myself, usually at times in my life when things have felt hopelessly off-course. When I’ve desperately needed to be reminded of what hope feels like.
Looking back on Mt. Fuji three decades later, I realize now that what I felt that day wasn’t just hope. It was also awe. The awe of seeing that not only did I have the chance for a better future—one filled with love and beauty and kindness—but that I had a hand in making it so. I had the chance to make what felt impossible, possible.
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