Hills

hills

After work I ran the San Francisco hills today. And they kicked my butt. My fitness doesn’t feel like its improving. I don’t care that this is the second week, I want to be better, faster, not so out of breath all the time with my muscles feeling like they’re on fire. 

The thought of running 26.2 miles still freaks me out. All of the doubts that I’ve been trying to push out of my mind sometimes just come crashing down on me like a torrential rain, pelting my spirit and weakening my ambition.

Will I really be able to do this? My heart grows heavy with the anticipation that, no, I won’t.

The hills are discouraging and humbling. I was tired and sore while running them. Now I’m even more tired and sore from running them. The silver lining (I hope) is they could make me a stronger runner. Definitely not faster (or more confident), but ultimately, like some of our greatest challenges, they can make us stronger. I should be thanking the hills. But mostly I want to flip them the bird.

They, the hills, are indifferent. They don’t care if I love them or hate them, glide over them gracefully or painstakingly stumble up and down their uneven paths. They simply are. But I’ve just realized that the hills are a lesson. I cannot change a lot of things, like my grandmother’s passing, the climate shift, animal cruelty, other people, but I can change myself. I can choose to despise or embrace those hills. Despising means avoiding them, cultivating even more fear, and ultimately feeling destructive. I want to level those hills. Embracing means engaging, understanding, and learning from them knowing they’re making me stronger. I want to learn from those hills.

Seems like a lot of problems are like running hills. I think I’ll try them again tomorrow.



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