I found a rope’s end while lying on the Berber rug of a medical tent during Stage 4 of the Marathon des Sables. When I climbed out of the tent and into the wee hours of a Sahara Desert night, I realized that it was my own. I let go of its frayed end while a million pinpricks of stars flickered in an African sky above me, and I felt so freaking free.
I can’t help myself, I am drawn to the earth’s high places. While I do care for the lil’ details, I prefer to big-picture conceptualize. Up there on high points, the world is an open book that lets me envision and learn on, boundary-less.
While I felt comfortable with my 22-minute cushion, I expected Luz to go for it on this 4th and final stage.
Tuesday morning, I’ll board a series of eastbound airplanes. By the powers of technology, about 20 hours later, I’ll emerge no doubt blinking and bleary eyed in Morocco.
