Sixteen

I hiked up Mount Sentinel today, expecting a normal hike. Clear my head, get outside, nothing fancy.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with the same idea.

I expected to see a few people, all enjoying the unusually warm February weather.

What I did not expect to see was a race for who could make the most laps up and down the mountain in a set time period.

Runners committed to doing as many laps as possible in 3 hours, 6 hours, 12 hours, and even 24 hours.

I spoke with a few people along the way, many of whom had signed up for the shorter races.

One lady I spoke with signed up for the 24-hour challenge. She had about an hour and a half left and was already on lap sixteen. She said it casually, as if it were just a fact, not something she needed credit for.

There wasn’t a prize for winning. No podium. No big reward at the end. She was doing it purely for her own personal satisfaction. And honestly, that felt like more than enough.

She wasn’t chasing attention. She was calm, present, and motivating others while doing her thing.

It made me think about how often we only push when there’s a reward attached. A grade. A paycheck. Recognition. Something external to justify the effort.

Meanwhile, some people are out there doing lap sixteen simply because they said they would.

I hiked back down at my normal pace, thinking about all the competitors on the mountain and why they signed up for it.

Sometimes the most meaningful things we do don’t come with applause. And sometimes, personal satisfaction is more than enough reason to keep going.