Up the hill, up the hill...

When we go hiking with the kids, they sing a little song that Daddy taught them. It's pretty simple. Up the hill, up the hill. Up, up, up the hill. Down the hill, down the hill. Down, down, down the hill...

Today, I was doing 15 km (9.3mi). My husband had mentioned to me that there was a path that I hadn't taken before. It goes by a golf course and would probably have a pretty decent view. I figured, what the heck. I love my regular routes, but they can be a bit repetitive. It was on the other side of town, but since I was doing 15 km, I would go that far anyways.

First I had to run to the red park, a place where I take my kids sometimes. I biked up that hill with a friend a week ago, and it was tough to keep my bike moving forward. Granted, there was a head wind that day...

So, up the hill, up the hill. Then up some more. I headed towards the path and went up, up, up the hill. The way back was going to be shorter because of the route I planned to take, so I told myself I had to get to at least 8km before I turned around. There was one big thought in my head: this is worse then weaselhead! (That's the brutal hill in the half marathon I did last month.)

I kept going despite the protests my legs kept lodging. When I finally turned around, I was rewarded with a full mountain view. Wow! That is one of the reasons I do this. Then, I had a super easy, but fast, 2 km while I ran back down.

(I'm cheating. I didn't actually have my camera with me, so I'm just throwing in a mountain picture from last weekend's hike.)

Why are some of the things that feel the best to complete so painful while in progress?