I’m awake at 4:30 AM. By the end of today, I will have ideally bagged 6 peaks and walked for 21 miles. The idea that this agenda is the ‘ideal’ one is met with protest from my soft, desk-job-nurtured body with its desk-job-nurtured concerns.

I know once I’ve traveled a mile or two that I’ll have warmed up. I know once dawn hits I’ll have convinced myself that I’m enjoying myself. I know once we’ve gotten down to the road again I’ll swear to never do this again.

I’ll probably do this again.

There’s no sudden turn at the end of this blog. I hate the outdoors, in the way that former fat kids hate the things that they did to lose weight. It’s more of an adversary than a thing to be enjoyed. Maybe that’s why I’ll live longer. Who knows.

I Hate the Outdoors