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I love climbing.
I love adventures and the outdoors.
I love waking up with the sunrise.
I love sleeping with the sunset.
I love the warmth of the fire against hands and face contrasting so vibrantly against the crisp night air nipping at my back.
I love that I know so many people who have soiled or pissed themselves as adults because of shenanigans in climbing and I love knowing that, honestly, it'll likely happen to me one day too and I really just hope it's not too public when it does happen because good god that's going to be embarrassing.
I love that sometimes situations get desperate, months pass without a hot shower and I spend days eating nothing but peanut butter and granola because life is hard.
I love it even if it means there are moments that are wretched to the point where I want to cry.
The time I cycled 70 miles on a mountain bike up a steep and unknown road, stuck in the middle of a hellhole valley in 98 degree weather, no breeze, only 200 ml of water, no cell phone, and still had to cycle another 2000 feet of elevation and 50 miles of road.
That was a shitty moment.
Or the time that guy tried to force himself on me.
That was a shitty moment too.
There are a lot of adventures.
Misadventures.
Freedoms.
Risks.
It's a package that comes together.
The good and the bad.
Sometimes they're the same.
This life isn't perfect.
But I love climbing.
I love the adventures.
I love these moments where I feel bright and alive and everything before me is clear. I love the peace and gentleness that follow.
These days, outdoorsy things have become somewhat romanticized and cool.
But you know.
When you're on an adventure, there's always the risk of pooping your pants.
And that's not romantic or cool.
Ever.
I like this life I live.
It isn't perfect.
But its the perfect one for me.
It would be good if everyone could live the perfect lives for them, too.
This is what I think.