Journey Up Hell Hill

To make me stronger, fitter, and healthier, Laurie continues to push me.  Exercises that in the first weeks felt impossibly hard are now those during which I catch my breath.  That I am out of breath today is due to new more taxing exercises or due to more difficult variations of exercises mastered.  And now these feel impossible hard, and I have the feeling that I will never best them.  It is a pattern I recognize but am still amazed at how much better I’m getting, how well my body is responding, changing my body composition by gaining strength and not wearing down.

It is a testament to the expertise and great effort of Laurie, for, though I am willing to work hard, it is Laurie who is molding me into a better form of myself.  In this way, she has my complete trust.  I may not know where I am going, but Laurie is my Moses leading me to the Promise Land.  So when she told me that I was walking about as fast one could possibly walk and that it was time to start jogging, I called upon my faith in Laurie to put aside my trepidation in order to submit an earnest effort.

At the very beginning of my weight-loss journey, when I was just starting to walk around my neighborhood, I would be so sore in body that it hurt as much to merely walk as it did to jog.  So I would jog a very short distance, until my breath gave out and I was forced to stop.  I remember how much my 440lb+ body would rumble when jogging, how my superfluous fat would jiggle in every direction but forward, and how much harder jogging was from when I last did it in high school.

This is what I was thinking as we walked toward the back of the club.  “Are you ready?” Laurie asked me, bending over to prop open the back door that would otherwise lock us out.  ‘Twas not time to make reply, nor reason why; ‘Twas but time to do or die.  Onto Hell Hill jogged the three hundred pound man.

The path to the club’s outdoor tennis courts is a series of hills.  Leaving the club we went downhill toward the pool area.  Laurie, who, despite a sore IT band, registered at the last moment for Flying Pig Half Marathon and finished in a flat out sprint, could run circles around me, so she let me set the pace and instructed me on how to improve my running form.  Shorter strides, land on the heel of the shoe and rock forward, pushing off the balls the feet—like with all exercise, good form is paramount.

Passing the pool on our right we cross the bridge over a creek, itself a little hill.  Coming off the bridge in a downward incline, I gained momentum just in time to take a right turn onto the big hill.  The hill is completely under tree cover, blocking sunlight and making it cool, but these virtues are reduced to nil due to the challenging grade of climb.  As per Laurie’s directions, I leaned into the hill, increasing my strides, and pushing off using my quads.  It was tough going, and I quickly shifted into low gear. 

Following the path upward and ever curving left, I was whooing and heeing about halfway up, out of breath and looking to stop.  A desperate glance toward Laurie told me it was okay to walk, and Laurie said “Great job!  That was awesome for your first time!”  The path then levels off somewhat, and I thought if I had just gone a little further I could have jogged the rest of the way.  But then the path turns into its steepest grade and its greatest challenge.  I struggled to crest it in a walk. 

At last we reached the top, and I felt like the King of the Hill!  Passing the tennis courts on our right and around a loop in the path, it seemed as though I was home free—all downhill from here.  Yet, as when resisting the return motion of a weight while lifting, gravity made it much harder than I imagined.  A jog downhill could quickly turn into a run, and then the run could quickly turn you into a runaway truck without an arrester ramp.  That was too advanced for me, and Laurie had me take small strides, standing bolt upright, engaging my core and working on my form.

Finally returning to the back door of the club, I had an easy flowing sweat and shins that were starting to ache.  Fluids are easily enough replaced, and the shin muscles will toughen to meet the requirements of running.  I can’t wait until Hell Hill will seem easy, but then I shudder to think what next horrors Laurie has up her sleeves!