A plateau I am on has not given way to anything other than more gradual uphills. Looking back upon the third week in October when everything seemed to be coming together seems like a fabrication, a dream. Then I had speed and endurance and never felt better.After the Dry Valley Half I have been struggling with so much. Recovery has been longer and less successful. The colder weather that has finally set is like lead weight strapped to every part of my body. I have no real goal, nothing to look forward to, nothing to dread enough to keep me moving.
It's hard to keep on when I can't perceive progress. Even when it feel like I might have a little victory or a spark of something to shoot for on the horizon it tends to disappear like a cruel mirage. It's uphill all over again.
I am looking for a way to keep at least a snail's pace of forward momentum. I am looking for my divine stubbornness that can look past the obstacles. I need the patience to heal before forging ahead. I need the guts to stick it out for the long haul instead of quitting because the grind of it all is just too much.
Lack of sunlight, the death of my only living aunt, family unrest, my sister's illness, my swollen joints, my pulled muscle, computer woes, property management, no glittering holiday to tempt me, and extra financial burdens feel like hill upon hill in front of me. As I crest each one, hoping for a downhill, I find each is but a false summit and I must pull myself together to keep climbing. They are a never ending line of fierce beasts that need to be tamed.
Today I choose to step out of the way of the brutes and will them to devour themselves. I am casting a spell to let these tigers turn themselves into butter. Maybe not today, but soon, I plan on having pancakes. Then I will enjoy the view from the top.
