Capricorn begins at the winter solstice — the darkest day of the year. That position is rarely told properly: Capricorn didn't grow up in good conditions, it learned to live when resources were least. So its core isn't ambition, it's the capacity to keep going on insufficient conditions — a capacity that only grows where conditions are insufficient.
You'll recognise it here: you worked out early that nobody was coming, and that knowledge isn't pessimism — it's what made you start planning for yourself; your sense of time differs from other people's, counted in decades rather than months; and resting produces guilt with no identifiable source.
Running well, Capricorn is the one who actually arrives: you knew how high the mountain was at the start and you climbed it anyway, step by step. That's uncommon — most people set off before they can see the height, then discover it halfway and stop. Blocked, Capricorn attaches worth to achievement, so stopping means losing yourself, and you set the next target the moment you arrive, having therefore never arrived. The tradition links Capricorn to Saturn and to time, and the point is season: spring follows winter without anyone straining for it. Capricorn's hardest lesson is allowing that some things don't come from holding on.