I choose to remember all of those wonderful things about it, but I can also say it is a strenuous hike. When Becca and I hiked it for the first time I thought I was going to die. There is no air and I felt like it was pretty much going straight up and somehow zigzagging at the same time. It is where I always feel like I need more water but the thought of having more weight to carry up the mountain makes me cringe. It is where the rocks slide from underneath you as you walk. It is where you sometimes feel bad about yourself because so many people are passing you. And, when it was time to go back down you were fighting to keep your footing as the rocks slide from beneath your feet, you had nothing to hold on to, and you were often going back down in the dark.
I tell you this because the hike is really only 1.11 miles. That is nothing. At home, I can pretty much do that in my sleep. But, when my boss hiked it, his Fitbit told him it was 98 flights of stairs. 98, people! So basically, it does go straight up and zigzag at the same time.
My life is still so uncertain right now and I absolutely hate it. I am figuratively hiking up that insanely steep mountain on a trail that is really only 1.11 miles but feels like 98 flights of stairs. I hope one day I can look back at this part of my life and think how short these past few months have been like I always felt once I got to the top of Y mountain. "It wasn't so bad. I was just being dramatic. I could do that again. And look how beautiful that view is!" As I climbed that mountain each time I felt so exhausted and worn down. I was thirsty and I wondered why I ever thought hiking to the Y was a good idea. But, once I got to the top I was exhilarated and easily found the energy to make the equally treacherous hike back down those slick rocks and that steep trail. I really really hope this is like that... 
