Up the Hill

I can’t run up my hill any more.

Before you judge, let me describe my hill to you. It’s on an old logging road, traveled only by the hunters who drive it in the winter and the farmers who use it in the spring. It’s sloppy from October through April, rutted all year, and has shaky footing at best. It’s at the very end of the route I run almost every day; in fact, I run downhill for more than 1/2 a mile, turn around, and look up my hill.

For years, I could run up my hill. Every day. But that all changed about seven years ago, when I got pregnant with my first child. Now:

A) I’m seven years older
B) I’ve had two kids
C) I’m ten pounds heavier (the result of A+B)
D) My running is nowhere near as consistent as it was back then

But I still make it up my hill every run. Only now, I’m walking.

Seven years ago, I would have been upset at the fact that I couldn’t run up my hill. I had run without walking in Muir Woods, Alaska, and Colorado without even considering walking.

But my running is often the perfect parable of my life, and my hill represents all the things that changed when I became a mom:

A) I spend more time focused on my family than myself
B) I don’t get as much sleep as I used to
C) My priorities are now shifted (the result of A+B)
D) I’ve had to say no to some things that I poured myself into seven years ago.

And so walking up my hill just isn’t something that bothers me now.

Seven years ago, if someone had wanted me to help them get started in running, I would have discussed with them the best short-term plan to run five miles without stopping.

Now I would tell you the best way to make it five miles. Whenever. Stopping or not. With or without breaks. Walking or running. Without any shame.

Because I realize that life changes. Pace changes. Focus, responsibilities, and priorities change.

And sometimes you just need to walk up that hill.

THERE IS NO SHAME IN WALKING, whether you’re talking about exercise or life.

Walking might take a little longer; that’s okay. Because when I started walking up my hill, I noticed things I’d never seen before: beautiful leaves, woodland creatures, sunlight peeking through trees. Back when I ran up my hill, I was focused only on trying to breathe and making it to the top without walking. I got to the top exhausted, out of breath, and ready to stop.

Now, when I get to the top, I’m slightly winded, ready to run again, and refreshed. I’m comfortable with the change of pace that walking gives me. I actually look forward to the section of my “run” that’s really a walk.

And my life reflects that: I don’t work the hours I used to. I’m not quite as involved in church as I used to be. I would rather spend a few hours of solitude with a good cup of coffee and a good friend rather than something adventurous or exciting.

Now, in life, I walk more than I run. I’m slower, I’m less efficient, I’m not going to break any records. I am in no way a super-mom, super-wife, super-housekeeper (well, I never was that!) or super-Christian. (Never was that, either.) I’m a walker.

And I will make it to the top of the hill. Whatever hill that is right now.

You will, too.

So if you find yourself walking where you used to run, girl, JUST WALK. And enjoy the view.

Leslie Hudson