I wrote this back in 2018 for someone who was quitting smoking. My brother-from-another-mother Eric is 54 days into that same journey, so I'm sharing this for him - updated to reflect those 54 days.

The first time I pedaled to the top of Kitsuma Mountain I seriously thought I would die.

I’d been riding mountain bikes forever but had recently gotten into a type known as “downhill” where the general idea is to barrel down a mountain as fast as you can go.

To this point I’d done this in bike parks where some sort of machinery was responsible for getting me to the top of the mountain.

At Snowshoe Mountain in West Virginia there was a ski lift. At Bailey Mountain Bike Park outside of Asheville there was a big WWII-era truck that carried riders to the top.

On this day, however, I was getting my first taste of trail riding in the mountains where my legs would be the only thing that got me to the top.

I expected it would be hard, but I didn’t know just how hard.

Around Charlotte the uphill sections are a few hundred yards long and a couple hundred feet of elevation gain.

No big deal.

Kitsuma is about 1,800 feet of elevation gain over 6 miles.

That’s roughly 1.5 times as tall as the Empire State Building.

Everyone warned me it was a tough climb.

“Take your time,” they said, “there’s no shame in walking Kitsuma.”

The first hundred yards was no problem, but then the grade shifted from somewhat steep to completely ridiculous.

So steep, in fact, that I couldn’t pedal.

I stalled out and fell off the back of my bike.

5 minutes in and I’ve already busted my ass.

This isn’t going well.

Although I wouldn’t have said it out loud I remember wanting to quit. This was way harder that I expected, take me back to the park please, and thank you very much.

I have no idea how long it took to get to the top that day, but I know it seemed like an eternity.

I huffed and puffed, sweated and cussed.

My heart raced.

My bike seemed like it weighed 500 pounds.

My hydration pack felt like an extra large duffel bag loaded with bowling balls.

I must have set a new record for the most breaks taken before reaching the top.

But, once I got there, it was totally worth it.

Racing towards the bottom I felt like I was on a cloud.

Despite the terrain - roots, logs, rocks, - the trail felt smooth and fast under my wheels.

No more sweating, no more cussing.

Just speed.

By the time we reached the bottom I was ready to do it again.

Just like that I’d forgotten how hard it had been to get to the top.

Once I got over the crest the exhilaration kicked in and it was all down hill from there.

(see what I did there?)

A friend of mine is giving up smoking, today is her 22nd day without a cigarette.

I’ve done that, too, and it’s a lot like climbing Kitsuma.

Getting started isn’t too bad, but soon afterwards it gets really tough.

The cravings set in.

The triggers are everywhere.

There are moments where you feel like you’re going to die if you don’t get a cigarette.

But then one day you wake up one day and you’ve made it over the hump.

From that point forward it gets easier and easier until the point in your life at which you were addicted to cigarettes is a distant memory.

54 days has become 54 months.

54 months has become 54 years.

And 54 years has become the rest of your life.

Keep pushing, EVB, you’re closer to the top than you know.