Do you ever stand at the bottom of a hill and stare at it wondering how the heck you’re going to get to the top? You can already feel the burn in your legs before you even start moving, and sweat beads together on your brow as you consider what you’re about to face. I’ve done it a bunch of times. Most recently I stood at the bottom of Anzac Bridge knowing that halfway across the bridge I’d be halfway through my longest run yet, outside of a race.
That day as I walked down King St, some guys had leaned out of their car and taken the time to yell “fat b***h!” at me, and some construction workers down in Glebe took the time to laugh at me as I passed by their work site. Needless to say, this hill was foreboding. I considered what would happen if I chundered off the side of the bridge and an unfortunate ferry was to be passing by at that moment. I also wondered if one of my plethora of housemates would come pick me up and save me from this run I’d overcommitted to.
I’m really good at overthinking.
I switched my brain off and ran up the pathway along the side of the bridge, heart pounding and legs aching. I got to the middle, doubled over in a mix of exhaustion and nausea, and laughed about how good it felt to have conquered the hill.
This semester is a big one. Doctrine, Old Testament, Church History, Greek and Hebrew. My brain has a lot of hills to climb in the coming months, and I’m looking forward to it… I think. Spartan Beast also hits Sydney in November and all signs are pointing towards it being a race I’ll be tackling. 21km of obstacle racing joy/terror. I’m keen. I’m scared.
I’m standing at the bottom of the hill that is semester 2. Thing is, I know it can be climbed and conquered. I might be nauseous by the end of it, but I’ll be stronger for it. If you’re a pray-er, pray that God sustains me over the coming months, both mentally and physically, and that everything I do (including the muddy moments) would glorify him.