Everyone who has biked a sizable hill knows the feeling. At first, it isn’t too bad. Momentum carries you into the first part of the incline. “This hill ain’t so bad!”
That is sort of how it is with youth. Things come easy. If we are blessed the hill goes on easy for us. But even in youth, into the hill, the legs start to strain. The breathing becomes more labored.
The arms have to pump harder to help out. Now you see upon looking up that the hill
seems so much longer and steeper than it did before—and harder. Yes, it gets
harder almost with each step. So at this stage of life the gloves start coming off
for the youth.
It goes on and on, pedal stroke upon pedal stroke and we seem to be barely moving. Dig down. This is where the rubber meets the road. We are youth growing up, become men and women in the real world.
Then, it seems, as we begin
to approach the top of the hill, we reach the steepest part. This could be middle age, facing your frailties
and now diminished ability. You have
changed but he hill hasn’t. It stands as
tall, as steep, and as resolute as when you were much younger.
Now, it gets really tough. Dig down. Don’t walk. It hurts! Don’t quit! Keep going no matter how slowly. Then there is a more level spot as the hill gives up before we do and we breathe deeply to recover our wind and smile as best we can at the beauty of it all. It was a very good day. I was a very good life.
