Tuesday, January 22, 2013
We started out in the grayest of gray cloud banks, the forest air literally dense with frozen water. In places, the trail was a skating rink of black ice, in other areas it was blanketed in fallen ice crystals from the trees above. But as we steadily worked our way up the ridgeline, the thick mist began to lighten, then to positively glow with a lovely pastel radiance. The air around us became luminous and the snow reflected the pale light so the ground beneath our feet felt like it was glowing.
All of a sudden above us through the trees, beams of golden light shot out through the mist. Although we hadn't planned on it, I knew we needed to take a detour from the trail and head upwards to the top of the butte. Hubby was not so convinced. The trail was treacherous, and as it got steeper it became increasingly impossible to navigate. But I knew that where there were sunbeams, there must be sun, so up up we went.
So, when the grey closes in around you, and the walls above feel too thick, what gets you to break through? For me, it's often my training. It might not feel like it at the time, but every time you push your boundaries, you in turn become less bounded. When you know that your limits are malleable, you can make yourself work all the harder to move them back.
Even on this run, the fact that we had run before, run many winding trails up and down the ridgeline, enabled us to decide on the spur of the moment to run up the mountain. Running up a mountain is not something everyone can do. Most folks would be gasping and wheezing after a minute or two of such effort. So our prior hard work paid off in allowing us this moment of freedom above the clouds.
When relatives, co-workers, or friends express doubt or dismay over your training, it's nice to remember that there are these wonderful times when it pays off in spades. When the grey ceiling that everyone thinks is immovable can actually be broken. By you.