Climbing that Hill

Tonight after work I went for a run. I'm usually very practical and only run in the light of day when I can see what I'm running toward and cars can see me. But I needed to complete the workout I started this morning, so I laced up and strapped on my reflective belt. I chose to run a well-lit sidewalk along a long and quiet street on the outer edge of town. I usually save this route for runs requiring more than 6 miles.

This road is less than a quarter mile from my house. It isn't much of a warm up for what I'm about to undertake. As soon as I hit 20th Street, the uphill climb begins. It is a slow and steady 3/4 mile ascension. In the 8 months I have lived here, I have never run the entire hill without stopping to walk.

I'm not physcially incapable of running the length of the hill. Simply stated, my mental toughness hasn't withstood the test. But tonight, needing only 4 miles, I decided it was time to run the hill from start to finish. Slow and steady, one foot strike at a time, keeping my gaze only a few feet in front. AND I MADE IT!!! No time to congratulate myself because once I crested the hill, I knew it was a mile downhill to my turnaround point.

Yes, that means a mile climb back up until I reach the downhill toward home. Onward I run, relieved with the ease of running downhill, but preparing myself for the return trip. When the Garmin beeped at mile 2, I turned around and headed back. All I could see in front of me was incline after incline until that final stretch of steepness. I told myself I could stop if my hip hurt or if my knee was giving me issues or if my forearms went numb again. You see, running is not easy on my body and therefore I provide myself "outs" with which to protect myself from pushing too hard. Not tonight. Tonight nothing hurt or ached. It was an all or nothing night.

And I chose all.

I ran all 4 miles. I ran both sides of that monstrous hill. I pushed past my mental block. I AM changing the voices in my head.