What A Difference The Hills Make

Hills.

You either love them or hate them.

Welcome them or dread them.

Embrace or avoid them.

Sometimes, I crave them.  I seek them out.  I charge at them.  Every muscle in my legs firing.  My lungs filling with air.  Exhilarated, I reach the top.  I smile.  I thank the Lord for the strength He has given me.

Sometimes, I dread them.  I avoid them.  I try to find another route. I think that I'm not strong enough to conquer what's ahead.  I look down. I slow down.  My legs get heavier and heavier.  I convince myself to keep going.  Moments from quitting.  I reach the top.  I grimace.  I thank the Lord the that the hill is behind me.

No matter what day it is.  No matter what run may be ahead of me.  I will feel one way or another about the hills I may face.  I live in the hills.  My main route is filled with hills.  It is inevitable that I will face hills on my run from my back door.

I have been babying my body since Eugene.  I spent the summer running slowly.  Carefully keeping my heart rate very low. And, with very few exceptions, keeping my mileage low.  No long runs to clear my head.  No long runs to keep me strong.  Just short, slow and quite, frankly, not often enough.

Hills were not charged.  They were walked.  Walked so that my heart rate would stay low.  And while I know my heart and body benefited from the rest, my muscles and my strength atrophied.  My mind atrophied.  My mind started to forget.  My heart started to forget.  I started to believe I could be done with running.  That I would have so much more time if I stopped running.  That life would be easier without running.

Hindsight.  Satan was winning that one.

Then, one Sunday at church, the pastor talked about living life without a parachute.  Without a back-up plan.  God is our plan.  What would you do if it was just you and God and that was your plan? 

That Sunday, my Heavenly Papa spoke to me and I welcomed Him.  I'd been missing Him. I'd been too busy doing life.  I wasn't in chaos. I wasn't facing any hills.  I was just living.  And, He invited me in...

He was faithful to show me all the times that He has gone to battle for me and with me. He was faithful to open my eyes. He was faithful to challenge me.  He was faithful to point out my weakness. 

That Sunday, I was left with these thoughts racing through my head...

What would you do if it was just you and God?

What would you do if your fear/anxiety didn't hold you back?

What would you do if you let go of the insecurities that you have clung so tightly to all these years?

My heart lept.  My cup overflowed.  My eyes were opened to the possibilities.  I charged the hills with a smile on my face.  My muscles firing.  My strength renewed.

As I looked ahead to where God was leading me, I realized, once again, that my run was vitally important to my heart.  That Satan had been, once again, trying to keep me away.  He knows I need that time with God.  He knows that is when I am strengthened in body, mind and soul.  I wish I wasn't so forgetful...

I've been running the hills a lot lately.  Mostly embracing them.  Some days are better than others.  Sometimes, I forget how strong they make me.  Sometimes, I try to avoid them, only to find an even bigger one up ahead.  Thankful, for the moments when God is faithful to remind me how hills make me stronger...

Yesterday, I went for the most glorious run.  I ran along the waterfront on a mostly flat trail.  I smiled.  I prayed.  I sang.  I stopped to take pictures.  I flew.  I slowed myself down.  The miles were effortless and I smiled when I looked at my times.  Times that reminded me how strong the hills have made me.  Times that reminded me of how all hills, whether those you face running or in life, will always make you stronger.

I've gazed at those pictures from yesterday more times than I can count.  Little reminders of God's goodness and faithfulness.  Breathtaking reminders of His love and His beauty.  Thankful that He continues to invite me to run the hills with Him.  Thankful for every breath.