Just one foot in front of the other,
you say.
The struggles, the weight, will all disappear.
With every step and the pain it causes,
new levels are reached, new goals are set.
Each breath inwards stings your throat
with an icy prickle.

It’s just a phase,
you say.
You can stop any time you want.
But can you really?
Recreational becomes regular,
the incessant thirst does not quit,
little quenches it.

Unsatisfied from the crunch underfoot,
you say
that you long for the warmth
which seems so distant.
Sprinting to it
only makes you slide further back.

I still don’t like it,
you say.
It’s the buzz you get afterward,
not during, that makes the suffering worthwhile.
The exhaustion that you feel
darts into your bones, your joints, every aching muscle,
rendering the relief that much more welcome.

But that feeling it gives you,
you say.
Through the pain, the chill, the thirst,
it’s a high unlike any other.
This sublimely inexhaustible feeling,
as hard to quit as you thought it would be to start,
leaves you hooked.