This post is part three of a three-part series. You can read part one here and part two here.
Try to boil an ocean and you won’t have enough hot water for tea.
I spent most of my life demonstrating that simple truth, taking on one personal project after another. In October, 2015, I finally grew tired of stoking those metaphorical fires. I doused the flames, buried the embers, and set off on a six-month trek down a quiet stretch of beach.
I grew up along the way. I could finally see the harm I had done in trying to make every little thing part of something bigger. I realized how much we all need quiet and solitude, both around us and within. And I finally realized that, through everything, I had been doing my level best to cheat my way past the natural limits of my mortality.
“Nothing” turned out to be exactly what I needed.
I’ve been avoiding this post for a long time. Given that my last post was all about failure, I wanted to offset it with a post full of good news and stunning accomplishments.
This isn’t that post. The short version is that last year did not go well; once again, illness interrupted my plans. This time, it might be permanent.
It’s official: I failed.
My earliest recorded data point for Walking to Fuji was on Sunday, September 21st, 2008. I walked six miles on the treadmill that day. I wasn’t using a pedometer yet so I don’t know how many steps I took. My last recorded entry was on Thursday, June 2, 2011. Between those two dates I should have walked just under 2,700 miles.
I logged a total of 633.