Day 3 of my commitment to ride every day, I struggled to get up a hill that I had basically been cruising up the first two days.
I thought to myself that the hill was a good metaphor for life. Some days, climbing a hill feels good; you’re feeling strong, ready and it’s hard work, but it’s exhilarating. You get to the top and you’re on top, not just of the hill, but on top of your game, on top of life, feeling good.
Other days, that same hill can feel too hard to climb. The pot holes and bumps that were always there and the gaping cracks around the sewer grates that you easily maneuvered around on those other days seem to gape even wider or rear up even higher in the asphalt, making them hard to get around no matter your prowess on the bike. The going is slow. It hurts everywhere in your body. You’re tired. You just want to give up. But you don’t.
You’ve done this before. Your brain, your muscles, they remember. It’s only a vague memory, but it’s there: the feeling when you get to the top of the hill and the road levels out. You can do this.
Life is full of ups and downs. It’s like that hill. Some days you’re up for it and it’s a challenge, but you face it head on, feeling strong and good, things falling into place the way the potholes on that hill seemed to move out of the way on their own. Other days, life can be too much and even a small effort feels excruciating, every pothole opening wider to swallow you up. But you keep going. Because that’s what life is. Inch by inch you move forward, closer to the top, closer to leveling out. Sometimes it feels more like millimetre by millimetre, but that’s ok. You’ve got this.