The season is almost over and I am so surprised that I'm still alive

This morning, on day 6 of our 10 day shift, I stood at the beginning of our biweekly 9 km portage and thought "there is no fucking way that I can do this." There wasn't anything particularly hard about today - while it was the 3rd time this shift that we were doing this portage (we came our briefly to civilization to get food and our weekly hit of internet), we were packing light for this trip meaning that my trusty wheelbarrow was sitting happily unused. Still, I felt exhausted, lethargic and like nothing could be more impossible than reaching the end of this damn portage to our cabin on Isaac Lake. And yet, I placed one foot in front of the other and, despite forgetting one life jacket at the beginning of trail 1 (adding an additional 5 km to our 9 km portage), 3 hours later we found ourselves in front of our cabin finally at the end of portage. I only mention this not for the sake of complaining (because let's be honest, I can do that quite proudly without the pretense). I mention this because there have been so many times in my life when I stood at the edge of a metaphorical trail and thought to myself "there is no fucking way that I can do this." In fact I was muttering that exact phrase on the cold May morning that I first started out in the park. Despite my constant bullshitting and irritating over confidence, I was scared shitless when I first started here - rightfully so. I had never done anything like this and had never shown any aptitude whatsoever for building or physical labour (despite what I may or may not have said in my interview - sorry Corrine!) On my first week out, after spending the week being shown the ropes, I actually wrote a tiny note to self and tucked it into the back of a bear cache in one of our campsites. The note read "did you make it?" - meaning did I make it through the whole season? No, I didn't really think about how creepy it would be for a camper to find this note (cue ominous owl hooting or wolf howling). Instead what I was thinking was "there is no fucking way that I will be able to do this". And yet, here we are 5 months, 6 outhouse moves, 7 lightening strikes, and 1 full scale evacuation later and the season has almost come to a close. 4 weeks from now, when the park closes and we walk that god damn portage for the final time, I will stop by that bear cache and leave one final reply to self that reads "fuck yeah you did!"