I woke up in the air over Mexico City. It was weird to think about; yesterday I woke up in Buenos Aires, today I woke up in Mexico City and tomorrow I’ll wake up in my parents house in Arvada. I’d spent so much time connecting through the Mexico City airport in the past six months that it’d begun to feel like my second home. That was comforting in a way. …until I boarded my flight to Denver. This really started to weigh on me because these was something oddly symbolic about this flight…

It’s a short flight from Mexico City to Denver, under four hours. As we were landing I was listening to Home We’ll Go and it just so happened that it ended right as our wheels touched the ground.

A year ago I downloaded a really cool travel tracker called PolarSteps and turned it on. It tracks all your movements and any time I land in a new city the first thing I do is open it up and tell it to record that as a new step. I opened it while we were taxing to the jet-way and added Denver. Then I did something I’d forgotten I’d ever have to do. One year, 21 countries, 89 steps and over 90,000 miles later I tapped “Finish Trip.”

I finally lost it.