I was in Pittsburgh at my in-laws with Kate and the kiddos recently and went for a jog, or wog (walk-jog) as is a more accurate description. Anyone familiar with the suburbs of Pittsburgh knows that the terrain is hilly, to say the least, and around the corner from the Dillon’s home is a monster hill that feels like it goes straight up in the air, especially when you are trying to traverse its incline, even in a car. It is a nightmare in a winter snow storm, unless you are sledding, then it is the bomb!
Anyway, I headed out to "wog" and my strategy is to jog down the hills, and walk up the hills. Jogging the flat parts, of which there are few, is at my discretion, which is a technique reserved for the experienced workout person who has years of strict training and disciplined routines; where a little "students choice" is a good thing I have found. So, realizing that if there is a hill to climb, then there must also be a hill to descend on the other side, I started out going downhill, jogging. Eventually after maybe 10 minutes, I turned the corner of the street where destiny awaited, the monster incline. It is daunting because there is about a half mile stretch of houses on a relatively flat part of the road that leads up to the beast, and you know its coming as you jog toward the base. The hill actually starts officially, for me, as I pass the mailbox marked 1450 on the right, and then, it’s GAME ON, me and the hill.
So by now I am sweating nicely, I have a good rhythm in my breathing and I know what is coming, the assault on this hill. This day was a particularly good one for me health wise, and I was feeling so cocky that I even began the hill in a jog, well, at least it wasn’t entirely a walk. I made it about a dozen jog steps, and I looked up, and I felt absolutely crushed in the moment. My mind had instantaneously calculated the level of energy required, the amount of gas my body had in the tank, the severe incline of the hill and the amount of steps to the top…. And it felt like a big flashing red signal REJECTED started flashing in my brain.
It was a moment of almost panic. I had never quit anything, ever, and it didn’t seem like this was the moment to be my first time. I really didn’t have time to think it through, but what I did next was important...I THINK. I stopped the jog, but I kept my legs moving and I kept walking, while I processed the moment. Part of me was shouting "stop, catch your breath, you don’t have to push into this hill, no one is watching. It’s just too big, take a break and then walk it in a minute." But I didn’t listen to that voice as I continued to move my feet, one step at a time.
I made it up that hill! Walking, but I made it without stopping! And I learned something very valuable that I wanted to share. Never look at the enormity of the task at hand or the proverbial hill you are climbing, while you are climbing, while you are mid-task. Once you put your mind into the task, then focus on the NEXT STEP all the way through. Just keep taking the next step, especially when the challenge is large and the incline steep.
When I returned to my in-laws driveway, my cell phone rang and it was my friend from college, Matt Doherty, former member of the UNC 1982 national championship basketball team with Michael Jordan and James Worthy. He was just checking in and asked me "how are you doing?" So I shared with Matt about the assault on and from the hill I had just encountered and he laughed heartily. I told him that my conclusion was when confronting a challenge, don’t look up! Rather, just TAKE THE NEXT STEP! Over and over!
And Matt said, "Absolutely! I remember part of our fitness test for Dean Smith at UNC was to have to run from Woollen Gym to Finley golf course and back, which doesn’t sound especially daunting until you have to do it for time and in competition. The hardest part of that run is coming back, which is all up hill. It was on that run one year that I realized they don’t call it Chapel HILL for nothing. Its like a 2 mile constant incline and the worst thing you could do would be to look up in the middle of the run. It would mentally hurt you to realize how far you had to go, and I realized that the only way to survive that hill was one step at a time, head down, driving to take the next step, over and over.”
How often would that technique serve us in life every day? Probably a lot I suspect. I talked about the day with my wife Kate, and she agreed, saying that how we dealt with the early delivery of and loss of one of our triplets in 2009, the loss of both our fathers to brain cancer the last couple of years and that is exactly how we deal with leukemia; one day at a time, head down, taking the next step, and not really looking up at the size of the obstacle or challenge, but trusting our next step, over and over and over again.
I guess I just want to encourage you to think about how focusing on just taking the next step applies in your life. And I trust it will help you scale whatever hill or challenge you face.
Amen and AMEN.