2011 was odd.
Where there are peaks there are valleys. The highest mountains of the Earth glisten in their majestic coats of snow and ice. They are the geographic rulers of the world. But the sun is higher. It melts their confidence from time to time, and they weep in the heat of their ignorance. Their melting tears run down through the canyons at their shoulders, the scars of their own weaknesses and occasional stirring of their glacial thoughts. The waters run into the caves at their feet--the dark, damp corners of their minds.
I've spent some time at the top this year. I've had one foot on the summit, and gazed momentarily at the view of the world below. Those memories are comparatively brief, so it seems. With one last, labored step to the top, I lost my grip and fell down thousands of feet, ricocheting off the rocks and breaking vital parts of myself. I've spent great lengths of time in the dark, damp misery of the crevasses in the shadows of the great peaks looming above. I have so much now to retrieve.
On the bright side, I've gained several friends to whom I have granted my deepest trust, friends that I hope will be with me until I exhaust my last breath. I've also watched dozens of my friends--some lifelong, some brief acquaintances, blink their eyes as I blinked mine. Mine opened again, to catch another glimpse of the world. Theirs did not. Nor will they ever--reminding me of the brevity of our experience in this realm.
I have stood on the tarmac just feet from aircraft roaring by--the planes that I've always read about and dreamed of witnessing in flight. I've also watched as one of those beautiful birds crashed into the stands, reminding me of the razor thin
I have floated through the deepest clouds of powdery snow I could have ever dreamed of in one of the most epic winters on record. I have bounded through forests and soared off of cliffs and pillows of sugar in what seemed to be an endless lucid dream. I've also sat cheerlessly in the dead of winter with nothing but cold, barren rock--no white room to escape to, to shed my troubles and worries if not just for a little while. Nature has reminded me of its power over the meek attempts by humanity to harness and control it.
I have succeeded as part of a dedicated, tight-knit team of people who share my passion in racing. Collectively, we donated hours of sleep, drops of blood and rivers of sweat, and accepted slag burns and damaged GPAs to build a racing legacy. With them, I succeeded in my first attempts in engineering. But I have also failed in engineering academically, to a degree that shocked me considering the effort I exerted. From this I have been reminded of the strenuousness and extreme complexity of the career I still intend to pursue, and the atmospheric level of concentration required to succeed in it.
If I've learned nothing else this year, it's that life, and everything good within, is fragile. I have learned that I must . I have learned that war emergency power may help escape danger, but it damages the machine. All decisions in life have compromise. Between the perigee and the apogee there is a journey through the cosmos. Between the lazy heat of the summer and the dark freeze of winter there are colorful transitions. Between Badwater and McKinley, the shores of the Dead Sea and Everest, there is a middle ground. I've been at the top this year, and I've been at the bottom. I
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