Many have mentioned thoughts that echo mine in many ways....
...but there's something else there... I'm not sure how to describe it, the motivation goes so far back... the brightest images of my childhood are all of the thrill of wandering, seeing somewhere new...
....the thrill of exploring a new neighborhood- my parents had just let me bike beyond a certain street. My friends and I, we called it "the new development" and biked it over and over, explored every wooded lot as if we were the first to tread these suburban street special only because we hadn't been there before... going somewhere new on a vacation knowing there would be somewhere to walk I had never walked before... seeing smugglers notch for the first time, part of a young family of vactioners, blaze orange frame packs everywhere, someone rockclimbing, a wide inviting trailhead and failing to convince my parents to go up there, knowing that someday I'd be back...a new beach with new dunes and fishing holes to find and explore... places where the rocks were different than where I came from..walking a beach after a hurricane littered with purple disks of marooned jellyfish all polka dots on the beach. I've always wanted to walk and wander a new place.
Among the worse that could happen to me is to have been everywhere...
The reboot, picking up a natural rhythm, self reliance, that living for real feeling, exercise are all just (wonderful) side effects to me.