How to Walk Up a Hill
I know how to walk up Walnut Street.
Walnut Street, at least the part I walk, is not a street you walk on. It's a street you walk up. A great, big, mountain of an up. And when coming home from downtown, I find myself at the base of Walnut Street.
I've miserably huffed and puffed up it. I've slogged up it. I've even tried sprinting up it. None were particularly enjoyable.
But I've discovered a few ways to make hill walking a kinder affair.
First, keep my eyes on the patch of concrete right ahead of me. I know the hill is big. I don't need to look up every three steps and get discouraged by how much I have left to go.
If I narrow my focus to the sidewalk slab before me, that's all I have to do. Just that slab. Then the next. Then the next. I can't walk the whole hill at once. I can walk one slab at a time, though.
Second, when I get to the top of Walnut Street, celebrate. If I keep on walking, already onto something else, I dread the hill more next time.
But if I take a moment at the top of Walnut Street to see how far I've come, to wait for my breath to return, to enjoy a bit of glory for this small summit, I get this lovely little recharge. And the hill doesn't bug me as much the next time.
So that's how I've been walking up Walnut Street: Slab by slab, pause for glory at the top. Which makes it a little less like drudgery and a little more like victory.