I trudge out, the sun hitting me just enough to remind me I'm alive. I'm still a little sore from my short run that I did the other day, but I feel good and energetic as the solar warmth touches my face.
The music is pumping through my Bluetooth headphones thanks to the incredible technological advancement of modern society.
In my hand I carry a device capable of streaming music over vast spaces without any physical cord connecting it.
I am feeling lucky, and I'm feeling good.
Still the first few steps around the block are among the hardest, going immediately uphill. My body not yet completely warmed up save for some minimal stretching, each stride feels like a slow, methodical ache.
When I reach the top of the first hill, I feel better; balanced and ready to really face the rest of the run, knowing full well the most difficult part is yet to come.
Soon I have a gradual and easy descent that helps to widen my stride further, and with the wind at my back, makes me feel a bit more confident as I close in on the upcoming climb.
As I tap the STOP sign at the bottom of the hill and change direction to climb, my mind wanders to the Penn State basketball team.
Here I am, just your average guy trying to get in shape and attain a healthy lifestyle, my lungs and legs beginning to feel the fire and fatigue associated with failure, and I think of what is thought of as the lowest performing athletic team at my Alma Mater.
I use them for motivation.
I think about how they've been beat up by their fans, by their coaches and by each other, yet they keep fighting.
They keep pushing in hopes that if they push hard enough, they push long enough, then they will succeed.
It's not easy to do it in the face of failure, to admit that you haven't been at your best, but sometimes it's those trials that give rise to a new sense of strength and determination.
I near the top knowing that I will reach the summit, not simply because of ability, but also self determination and motivation.
I'm headed back down now, and I have a sense of calm, but I realize that the climb has definitely taken a toll on my legs and the run isn't quite over yet.
I have made it to the local park that sports a track that I like to briefly run on. It's flooded and still has remnants of ice and snow that demands my attention. The song "Apollo" by St. Paul and the Broken Bones plays loudly in my ears.
My feet are cold and mud trudges on to my sweat pants, and I'm thinking about what to write about these days and what matters to me.
And I think about the hills.
These hills will always be there in life. Some will be steep and some will be shallow, but there will always be an up and down nature to our experiences on this earth.
I'm almost back to my house now, fatigued and soaked with sweat, but I feel good too. As though I'm ready to keep climbing and finish the journey that was started.
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