Twenty-five years of February 12ths, and the through-line is unmistakable... we keep trying to wake up. Sometimes to homework dragons, sometimes to our own exhausted bodies, sometimes to democracy itself unraveling.
It started simply enough in 2001, fighting burnout with fresh productivity. By 2002, I was listening to my inner self, planning Montreal trips and mountain bike seasons. The next year brought a new digital home, then 2005 delivered back-to-back adventure attempts... McLeod Peak calling until Black Tail Peak answered instead. Plans change. We adapt.
Coffee shops became a recurring stage, from witnessing communal spoon crimes in 2006 to TNR nights and grocery runs in 2010. By 2012, imaginary racing taught me that the last one standing doesn't always win anything worth keeping.
The real awakening came gradually. Fat biking in 2014 meant sharing cold trails with someone new. Then Mile 124 in 2016... that's when I finally understood that trophies mean nothing without someone waiting on a street corner in West Yellowstone.
Quiet moments followed... squirrels teasing Mr. Bear, pondering whether AI is hype or hidden gem. And now, 2025 asks the hardest question: Did we wake up in time?
From homework to democracy, from burnout to shared adventures... February 12th keeps asking us to pay attention. To listen. To not sleepwalk through the moments that matter.