This weekend I went cycling up and down some pretty big hills, for me anyway. I’m not a cycler so much as someone who occasionally cycles. I don’t know much about disk brakes or carbon fibre frames, and struggle to make sense of the linguistic quirks of “hard” (which you use when it is easy) vs “easy” (which you use when it is hard) gears. As I learned on this lovely training weekend, I know exactly zero about exercise nutrition (no wonder I am always depleted) or training plans. My efforts in this regard consist primarily of signing up for some rides, turning up and trying not to fall off. There is room for improvement.
Going up a hill is always the time I think, “WTF am I doing this for?” Struggling up a long incline, trying to remember to pull on the pedals rather than push them down (yes, it does indeed help, thank you Coach Phil!) is an exercise in vasbyt – roughly translated from Afrikaans as bite tight – in other words, perseverance and tenacity. Especially when the gap between you and everyone else grows wider with every passing meter.
When I first started running – in some other universe, past me just fainted – I used to struggle up the slightest of inclines. My heart rate would speed up, my cadence would turn into barely more than a brisk walk and I would feel like I was about to die. And in my head would be this merry-go-round of thoughts that included – “who are you kidding, you are not a runner.” As I plodded along, all the stories I’ve collected across my life, from being told I run like a camel going backwards and coming last in pretty much every event we were forced to participate in at school, from cross country to swimming galas, would crowd into my mind and remind me that I’m shit at exercise, and slow and ungainly. What on earth was I thinking trying to pretend otherwise? I should give up this whole stay fit malarky, go home, climb into bed and read a book instead.
But I wanted to be able to go for a run without it feeling like the end of the world. I wanted to be part of the Saturday morning social club that is park run. And I wanted to be fitter. So I committed to persevere, and one thing I noticed was that these thoughts, these mean inner voices, were most prevalent on inclines. That was when I started saying to myself, “never quit on hill”.
On a hill is when it is hardest, and it feels like it. Confusing the sensations of struggle with judgements of the worthiness of an activity is when we give up things we don’t really want to.
I repeated this phrase a lot to myself this weekend whilst climbing hills on my bike, and also when I listened to people being so competent and expert in the field of cycling. I used it to bash into submission the negative self-talk about my fitness abilities and the feelings of inadequacy low competence always triggers in me.
Never quit on a hill. If I quit on the hill I’d have to give up running and cycling – and they bring me joy.
Of course, the hill is metaphorical, and lessons from running and cycling apply to life too. Life is full of hills.
The hill is the hard patch on the road of the life you want to live. It is the struggle you experience when you are studying for exams, or dealing with the weight of familial responsibility or with disappointment or grief or the stress of a heavy workload, or the effort required in following dreams.
It is when things feel tough because they are tough.
Like cycling, life is both glorious and hard. Sometimes you are going up a hill and sometimes you are freewheeling down the other side. A life that is completely free from struggle is mundane. And one that is only struggle requires re-evaluation. It is in the peaks and troughs of life that we find meaning and pleasure.
Granted, sometimes those hills are Giro De Italia style hills. Sometimes you do have get off your bike and walk up the hill, notice the scenery and move some different muscles. But that’s different to quitting. It’s different to giving up. Walking your bike up the hill is not quitting at all. Taking a breather, regrouping and strategizing are just other ways to get up the hill, especially if you are feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted.
I find this simple phrase empowering. Never quit on the hill. It’s a reminder that what you are doing in this moment is hard and so feels hard, but more importantly, that it is just temporary. Hills come to an end, and the view from the top is worth it, as is the feeling of rushing down the other side. And if you want to quit, that’s when you should do it.
Onwards!
Sharlene
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