Sometimes that’s all you can focus on or hope for…that you can put one foot in front of the other and make progress towards wherever it is you are going.
For me, this was hill number 3. I still had 2 more big ones to go.
I must’ve been insane to do hill repeats at the hottest part of the day. It was still only 95 degrees in the shade, and the humidity wasn’t helping.
Also, I hate sweating, but there it was
streaming down into my eyes,
blurring my vision; causing me to use every ounce of energy as I lifted the 100 lb weight at my side to wick away the condensation on my face.
Focus. Focus. This is just a short workout. Think of how great you’ll feel afterwards.
My legs are burning. They’re on fire. My quads are on fire. I want to stop. I can’t stop. Don’t look down at your watch until you’re at the top. No matter what your time is, at least you will be able to say you got through it…
Running has transitioned for me over the years. It’s like having my own private diary composed, instead, of physical movement.
Early in the morning,
late at night,
in the quiet park trails…
No one else sees the deliberation of each foot plant; or the elegance and freedom of the next; nor the personal, persistent struggles that you face just to climb that first hill or ride out the last.
The quiet sighs of victory with each step taken; each breath drawn.
Each one is mine and mine alone.