Extra.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

Don't look up at the slope. Look down at your feet. If you stare at your feet long enough as you walk, at the space in the path between your feet, you can almost convince your brain you're traveling horizontally. The only thing to betray the illusion is the mounting fire in your muscles and joints, the jagged spurs of pain along your spine.

Just a little farther. Breathe. Swing your arms. Look around; the sun's coming up. Pink bars of sunlight paint the dew-washed hillside. Don't look up; remember, we're almost there. Just keep going.

All this - bill-paying-car-fixing-job-working-house-cleaning-life-living - is the norm. It's every day. It's pumping your legs, listening to your knees creak (more with your other joints than with your ears), breathing in and out, working upwards, fighting against gravity with every step.

That moment you have when you see outside yourself and your personal path, into another world which you create and govern, a universe limited only by your imagination? That's extra.

I'm thankful for extra.