running up

Sweet Anna's been a grump these past few days, on account of two teeth trying to break though gums and make their appearance in the world. The only things that seem to make her happy/stop pulling painfully sad faces and bursting into tears every three and a half minutes has been going for rides in the stroller and hiking in the backpack.

So into the stroller she went this beautiful morning. And we were off for a run. I just so happen to live in an incredibly ideal location for strolls , surrounded by parks and at the foot of majestic mountains (try using the word majestic some time today in normal conversation with a straight face.)

One such park is a massive gully with a newly paved walkway. Whoever designed it must have been dreaming of camels, because there is maybe 5 feet of it's that flat, the rest 45 degree hills up and down. Which makes it ideal for shorter runs.

It's also great because there is hardly anyone ever on it.  I find myself setting little goals-- no walking till fence post A, look only at the beautiful Mt. Olympus and keep moving, etc-- since these hills only seem steeper when pushing an increasingly heavy baby up in front of you. It's a great way to get to know yourself. No-one's watching. No-one cares if you look cool or not. No-one needs to hear an excuse.

I was on my way back, staring up the last and definitely steepest hill, and things were going well. I love feeling my legs tingling with effort, breathing focused and sweat reflecting morning sun. My usual goal is to push through till about 20 feet past the end of the hill, then walk it off for a minute and get ready for the last hill home. But today for some reason I decided no walking. I decided it in the middle of the hill, and when the usual stop and walk mark passed, I just kept going. To my surprise, it wasn't that bad. And I had a sudden rush of really great.

I look up and see a super fit woman in her 60's biking towards me with a huge smile: "Way to go mom! Running up that hill like it was nothing! Keep it up!" And she cruised past.

Again, a rush of goodness filled me and I felt like I could do anything.

I spent the rest of the run home wondering why.

Do I really get that much from praise or encouragement? Was it that I could immediately tell she knew how hard a thing I'd just done?

As I kept running, I passed another mom out with a stroller, walking in the sunny morning. I heard "Faster mommy! Faster like them!" from behind me, and turned around to see they too had now started running.

My friend growing up used to tell me all the time that I was "tough as nails." I really liked the image, and wanted to believe him.  But then I was at the end of a Triathlon in southern Utah. I was about a mile away from the finish, and running through hot, rocky sand. I felt so completely drained, and was by myself. I remember the internal argument "Run! Faster. Push through to the end! I can't keep running. I have to walk. C'mon, you're tough as nails! No. No I'm not" And I walked.

I felt like I got to know myself that day, and was disappointed.

But today as I felt so amazing running that last mile home, I decided that it's always always worth it to just do the hard thing. We don't know who's watching. We can't let past failures make us change how we see ourselves. We gave up one time in the sand. So what. We can decide each moment if we'll be inspiring. Doing the hard things, pushing through, there is nothing but good that comes. We respect ourslef. We can motivate others. We become stronger.

And when you see some-one running up, doing the hard things in this life, give a little cheer. Let them know they're doing great.

"Be strong, and do it." 

1st Chronicles 28:10

 Little scripture I came across this week and love.