The Next Hill.  Back in my thirties, when I was immortal, I thought it would be a good idea to take up roller blading.  I strapped on and started out.  Soon, my wonderful neighbors were skating with me.  They being more competitive than I, wanted to be in races and marathons.  Idiot that I am, I let them convince me that a 39 mile trek part of the way from Athens to Atlanta would be a good idea. Ok I said, I have gone that far here in Florida, no problem.  What did I forget?  We have no hills in Florida! I lived in Atlanta for 3 years, but did I remember the topography, no not so much.  And have you ever been to Athens?  Hill City.  So we started out from Athens, in the dark, in the rain, on the hills.  Those hills looked like Mt. Everest to me.  Cheryl, strong and fit, was able to pull up those hills with no problem.  The only way I could make the up hill was to take the previous downhill at top speed.  I would zoom down past Cheryl to make it even half way up the other side.  Cheryl would zip past me with words of encouragement and enthusiasm.  Here I would come slowly slogging up with every ounce of energy I could only to face the next hill.  Without my friend, Cheryl, I would still be out in the wilds of Georgia somewhere.  She carried me up and down those hills.  

When I decided to undertake the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer (how ironic) several years later, my first question was "Are there any hills in Chicago?"  No, Cyndy, no hills.  Reassured, I was able to complete that ordeal, without hills.  

 

But God wasn't through with giving me hills to face.  Hopefully with this cancer, I can do what I did in Atlanta.  Zoom downhill so I can get up the other side.  Thankfully, I have wonderful family and friends that are carrying me up.