Friday Footnote: Masada at Dawn

As the sun rises over the expansive desert and kisses the ruins on the top of Mount Masada, I am overcome with a burning desire to keel over and collapse. I look at my phone, and it tells me that I just walked up the equivalent of 100 flights of stairs. I honestly thought it was more—a testament to my lack of cardiovascular health. I would like to brag that I made it all the way up before sunrise and watched the sun shimmer as it rose above the sands from the top, but that's not true. I nearly made it to the top, but too many rest breaks to keep my thudding heart from exploding and my purple face from planting itself in the sand meant I made it to roughly the last landing before the summit. I stopped there to take photographs of the sun rising but honestly didn't kick myself too hard for not making it in time. I mean, had I actually kicked myself, I might have died from the effort, so it wasn't hard to refrain. It was still a glorious view and experience, even as I was sure that I'd n…