Him: “No wonder you’re tired. You worked much harder than I did.”
Me (thinking): I did? How? We both biked about 30 km on a gorgeous fall day. So how was I working any harder than you?
Me (speaking): “What do you mean?”
Him: “Your bike is heavier than mine. You had a backpack on adding more weight. And the mental hurdles you have to overcome are just not part of my experience.”
Dammit! He was right. I hate when he’s right. Right and insightful. Even worse.
My mental hurdle shows up as soon as I see a hill even from a long distance away.
I call the hill names and tell it that it won’t get to me. Then, when my legs are burning about mid-hill, I bully myself the rest of the way. I grit my teeth and take the hill at a faster speed than when the ground is more level thinking that the pain will end quicker if I just get up and over.
Have you heard the one where a hill is just a hill? It’s just another experience. I heard this philosophy when I was in labour. The pain of the contractions is just another experience. You don’t need to avoid it or give into it. It is what it is. Breathe through it. I didn’t fall for this philosophy back then either.
So what is it about the hills that gets my goat? Why do I have to win? To hurry through the pain? To get to the other side?
What if a hill is just another experience? Nothing to gain victory over. Nothing to beat myself up over. No greener grass on the other side. No reason to over-effort. Just breathe and let what is, be.
What if hill is just a hill?