Some hills are worth it

The best I ever feel is when I have been outside the city limits. This week I had two days off in a row, a rare occurrence. Chanctonbury Ring was our destination. Upon arrival I turned sour as I looked straight up the mammoth hill. My thoughts went a little like the following: “this-is-my-day-off-and-you-want-me–to-spend-the-whole-time-climbing-this-bitch-ass-trick-hill-instead-of-walking-along-in-a-mystical-haze-in-Ashdown Forest?” But there we were and I didn’t want to be thought of as a wimp standing at the foot of the trail so I started a long. Although the climb was steady the whole way, I didn’t lose my breath at all and found it surprisingly easy. Once at the top we had rice crispy squares and sipped some ginger whiskey. It reminded me of Prairie Mountain in Alberta. You climb up for a long time but when you get to the top it is flat and looks like a field. It is rather anticlimactic until you relax and take in your surroundings. Looking down on the land below us small cars and trucks wove in and out of the tree lines. It was quiet. Hawks circled and the occasional dog walker could be seen in the distance but other than that we had the space to ourselves. I will try to remember this the next time I complain that a hill looks too big to climb.