~and then there is the hill~

There have surely been plenty of things in life that have presented a challenge or two for me.  Being very short in stature always has lent itself to being a bit on the unhandy side.  The cupboards here at home are not very friendly towards women that stand only 5 feet tall but I have figured out how to use a pair of meat tongs to be able to grasp onto things that are just out of my reach. Wish that it could have been different but I took the 6-year plan instead of the traditional four years to get out of college, not because I got two degrees at once or anything, but simply because it just took me that long.  Had I graduated with the rest of the class back in 1977, shoot I'd be starting my 39th year in education instead of the 37th one but that's ok.  It was a challenge back in 2011 when I wanted to ride on the annual Bike Across Kansas trip, the week long journey that takes cyclists nearly 500 miles across the state.  I did great for the first half, nearly making it from the Colorado border to the central Kansas city of McPherson.  It was there that I succumbed to heat exhaustion and dehydration but not before making it over 200 miles. 

And then, well then there's the hill.

Ok, ok so it's not Mount Everest or anything. Shoot, it's not even Cerro Summit but it's there and I'm telling you that it's not flat. Not even by a long shot.  See that big cottonwood tree up there?  Well just about another 1,000 yards or so on the other side of it is our house here on the outskirts of Montrose.  If I want to go for a walk down to the 4-way stop sign then I have to be able to not only go down it with ease but to climb back up it as well.  My legs hurt just typing these words~

I remember when I first moved here after Mike and I were married in May last year, that one evening we decided to try that little jaunt down to the corner and back.  It looked like a piece of  that proverbial "cake"  for crying out loud.  I was used to walking a couple of miles each day back home in Kansas.  Back home in very flat Kansas.  So after supper one evening, off we went. 

Going down the hill was easy.  It was fun!  We were talking about life, yacking away about anything. Everything.  By the time we got to the corner to turn around, I'd hardly worked up a sweat.  Looking back and seeing what we had just come down was a sobering thought.  Geesch, that is quite a hill when you stop to consider it.  If the going down it was easy that first time around, believe you me the going back up it was polar opposite. 

OK, really polar opposite.

The first few steps or two, I pretended not to even be affected by it but Mike Renfro could tell that it was already starting to get to me.  It was turning into a "backside kicker" every step that I took.  By the time I got to the house with the red roof (kind of like a landmark on this route) I was pretty much in trouble and I knew it!  No fooling Mike now as he grabbed my hand and helped me as I climbed up it.  I will never forget what I told him as we got to the "point of no return".

"This is horrible!  It feels like I'm walking in wet cement now.  This must be what quicksand feels like.  Don't think I will make it."

But I did make it.  By the time I crested at the top of the hill and looked back at where I'd come from, I was so glad to have not quit.  Actually quitting really never was an option even though I half-jokingly, half-seriously said to Mike that he should just go get the car and I'd wait right there for him.  I promised! 

I didn't walk down the hill all that often last year.  From time to time I'd give it a try but I mostly kept my walks to the flatter part of this country.  Around the alfalfa fields or down the road a ways to the other corner.  You know, the one without the hill.  But lately things have changed and during the past few weeks, Mike and I have taken more walks together and more times than not, we've opted for the route with the hill.  I'm getting much more used to it now, acclimated to what it takes to make it up it.  I don't let Mike hold my hand now as we make our way back up it.  The only way to gain in strength is to do it on my own and I know that. 

I am with each passing day, inching closer and closer to that magically wonderful age of 59.  It seems strange to think it, to realize that next year I will have attained 6 decades of life and living.  I know how important it is to stay active and healthy as we grow older.  To have a diet of eating that fuels the body properly, not overloads it with junk is imperative.  I've shed about 35 pounds since the beginning of this year and still have a ways to go but I'm sure feeling a lot better.  I'm at the age that my father was when he passed away from lung cancer, now  well over 30 years ago.  I would like to live a while longer, you know?  Taking care of myself, eating properly and exercising regularly are great ways that I can help to ensure that being a reality for myself.  Walking the hill will help, not hurt me. 

It's dark here along our part of the world right now. The early morning hours are my favorite ones.  They are filled with quiet, solitude and peace.  Down in the valley, the lights of the city of Montrose are twinkling and here and there, cars are traveling down the highway. Some are  going west but more are going east right now.  People are slowly waking up and starting their new day.  My hopes would be that it is a good one for all of us and if for some reason it's a not so good  kind of day, that somehow or another we'd all make it regardless. 

Dear friends and family, from a place far away from most of you, may your journey be filled with peace this day.  I'm think of you.  Each of you.  All of you.