* I Killed A Mountain - Part 8: The Aftermath

Like that one song says: I am like a big, strong cable, but I am just a girl, soft inside.

Everyone told me I would cry when I would see Machu Picchu for the first time. 

I did not. 

And I did not cry when I made it to the highest pass in the face of all the pain, and exhaustion. 

I cried on the bus from Ollatamba to Cusco, when finally all my mental barriers blocking hygene, pain, and solitude started coming down. 

I cried in realization of the grandness of what I had just accomplished.  

I cried in recognition of everyone else going home with someone to talk to about this incredible trip, and that I lacked that kind of intimacy only to pour my mind into this blog to share it with others who were not there. 

I cried because I wanted more of this.

I killed a mountain. 

I killed a mental mountain as well as a physical mountain. 

I did not walk the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu just to have done it and say so. 

I did it for me. 

I did it to reaffirm my trust and belief in who I am and what I am capable of. 

I did it because I can. 

Because that is what I wanted most for a long time.  

I killed a mountain, and now I am planning for the next mountain to kill.

Whether it is to plant the tree that you always wanted to add to your backyard, or take a stroll in the streets of Vienna, or climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, go kill your own mountain and be proud.

After all, the main cause for failure and unhappiness is trading what you want most for what you want at the moment.

MUY BIEN! :)