The hill near my house has already claimed at least one life.
It’s true. I saw the body.
One day, years ago, I drove up the hill. I turned a corner just after the crest and had to hit my brakes. There were two empty cars parked in the middle of the road ahead of me. I looked to the shoulder and saw two men, presumably the drivers. One was on a cell phone; the other was just standing there, staring. I followed his line of sight and there, in the ditch, was a body.
It was an obviously dead man, late middle aged, in a jogging suit. The hill had done him in.
This hill is about 3/4 of a mile of unbearable steepness. If I were an engineering type, I would spout of some impressive jargon about angles and grade versus length, but since I am a creative type I’ll just say the hill is a killer. (See that? It is called a word play. Take that engineers!)
A couple of years ago, I started running. And me, being who I am, decided right off to train for the Baltimore half marathon. I gave myself a good eight months to train for it. And I made it up to running about 9 straight miles when I hurt my knee. I tried to work through it with a physical therapist, but in the end I had to settle for running a 5k.
A few months later we moved back to Oregon, in the same neighborhood as Dead Man’s Hill, but I didn’t think about running it. I was too busy unpacking and settling in.
Summer came and I drove up the hill several times a week to take my daughter to swim lessons, but I didn’t think about running it. It was too hot.
Fall came, and with it cooler weather. The trees flanking the hill were showing gorgeous color. But I didn’t think about running it. I had begun homeschooling and my mind was as full as my days.
I wasn’t only not-thinking about the hill. I was not-thinking about running at all.
But then something happened. I woke up one day and realized that I couldn’t button my pants how much I missed it.
I missed the solitude.
I missed the meditative rhythm of feet on pavement.
I missed sweating and struggling and finally achieving.
I remembered that running is good for my heart. And my soul.
So I ran.
And last week I tackled that hill.
It was exhilarating.
It was exhausting.
But I survived.
And someday…someday, in the not too distant future…
I might even try to run up it.

*****
Over the weekend, my girl competed in a local run to benefit area schools. She didn’t finish first, but she did finish happy.
Running is good for her heart too.