Hill Running

The world appears flat,
But hills are everywhere.
The only way to avoid them,
Is to circle ‘round where you already are.

When I was younger
And had not yet fallen in love with hills,
I would lengthen my stride,
Lean back,
Work only my legs,
And gulp each breath, 
Like it was my last.

Just get it over with
I would think.
Focus on the summit,
Endure the pain.
You will survive.

Now that I am older,
And in love with hills
I shorten my stride,
Lean forward, 
Engage my arms,
And breathe slowly.

When I look at where my feet land,
And ignore the summit dream,
Time passes easily,
And up the escalator, I rise.

When I stop trying to reach for the top,
And shorten my stride,
The hill flattens.
After all,
A hill is just flat steps inclined.

When I engage my arms
My legs follow unconditionally.
Like a marionette,
My body moves, 
Directed by powers greater than mine.

When I slow my breathing
My lungs fill,
And scold my flustered brain.
It is only a hill, they say,
Fatigue is a thought best ignored.

Some say suffering makes you stronger,
Not certain I fully agree.
Hills make a runner stronger,
I know that for certain.

Then again,
Running is a lot like living,
So maybe suffering does make you stronger.

So long as you know to
Focus on the moment,
Lean into the truth,
Grace yourself some space to breathe,
And engage your healing.

Peace