Hiking the sea cliffs of Howth...what better way to end a week of extreme ups and downs?

After a week that's put you through hell, there's nothing better than waking up on a sunny, Saturday morning with nothing in particular on the agenda.  The morning was crisp and clean, the day full of potential and possibilities.

I lazily rolled over in bed, weighing the options I had for the day as the blue sky called to me from outside the window.  Given the taxing, strenuous roller coaster the week had been, I decided a good hike would be the way to go.  I hadn't yet visited the fishing town of Howth, and a colleague had recommended the sea cliff hike.  It sounded like the perfect way to work out the stress, enjoy the beautiful sunshine and soak in the 75 degree weather.

I jumped out of bed, made my breakfast omelet, and packed up some fruit and water.  I dipped myself in sun screen, let it all soak in, and was on my way out the door.  It was only a 30 minute drive to Howth from the apartment, and the bright, sunny morning was inspiring, relaxing, and energizing all at the same time. 

I arrived in Howth and drove through the center of town to the sea cliffs.  As a working fishing harbor, there were boats everywhere, and it was beautiful and quaint.  I drove through to the sea, where the roads became steep and windy, eventually dumping me off right at the base of the trail.  I hauled my backpack on, turned on my MP3 player, and went to look at the map.  There were various trail options.  The longest one wound itself completely around the bluff, up to the summit, and back through the center of town.  It was around 9 miles long, labeled "Hard", and sounded perfect!  Off I went.

Within 5 minutes of walking the music in my ears annoyed me.  It was too harsh a contrast to the sweet breeze and glistening sea views.  I turned the player off and stashed it in my backpack, preferring the rhythm of my thoughts as a compliment to the views.

The cliffs were beautiful, and on their sides, 100s of seagulls perched.  They were chattering, and the combination sounded like a noisy restaurant packed on a Friday night, with tons of different conversations going on.  As I listened to the gulls, I could make out ups and downs in the volume of the overall conversations, and the simile was intriguing.

I had traded conference rooms, emails and work headaches for winding sea cliffs.  Below, I watched the fishermen haul in their catch.  I was conscious of the warm sun beating against my white, exposed legs.  The cool breeze was a welcome relief as productive beads of sweat formed on my forehead.  It dawned on me that a couple weeks ago I had been riding a bike through the streets of London, yesterday I was walking through an open market in Munich, and today I was hiking the sea cliffs of Dublin.  It was an adventure like no other.  It was teaching me that I liked me space, my own schedule and agenda.  I loved traveling, for work or otherwise.  I loved the regional teams and their unique perspectives.  The thought of sitting back at my desk in Milpitas jarred me, and as I continued on my hike, it was with an air of defiance as my problem solving wheels started turning.

As I was driving home later that afternoon, Shinedown's song "Second Chance" played on the radio, and it gave me chills.  Windows down, hair blowing free in the wind as the sun played in the Dublin sky, it occurred to me that anything is possible.