A few years ago, my husband, my youngest son, and I went on a weekend getaway for his fall break. I told them I wanted to try a short trail to try and push my body a bit to see where I was at. I was armed with my hiking sticks, and I was ready for a short loop in the woods.
About 3.5 miles later we finally exited the woods. Needless to say, we got a bit more than we bargained for. Took a wrong turn, perhaps? It was a difficult hike to say the least, complete with stairs and all (stairs are my nemesis). I was completely and totally wiped out, and at the same time I was completely energized and planning the next year’s fall challenge!
Since then, we have found “the big hill” – as I named it. Clever, right?! The first time I did it, I used my hiking sticks. It’s a STEEP hill. The kind of steep that is scary if you ask me. The next time I did it, I ditched the sticks. Yikes. Talk about facing my fears. My husband documents these big hill challenges for me, so that I can always look back on them. Living with a progressive muscle disease, these climbs are a big deal on the hill!
It really starts days before the actual climb. I get a thought that I want to give it another go, and until I do it, I can’t get it out of my head. This most recent time, I wanted to do my last big hill climb before I turned 50.
I am so grateful for the abilities I have. I’m grateful for the inner drive that I have to keep going. I wonder what I will do if that ever goes away and I can no longer find it. That scares me. I think about it a lot.
I don’t want it to go away.
I trust it will always be with me, in me, like it always has been. I hope I can always tap into that spirit of pushing past my limits at times. I hope I always get that rush of absolute joy and humble pride when I achieve something like the big hill climb. As a woman of faith, I’m confident I’m not getting there on my own physical strength. It wouldn’t make sense. Some days it’s all I can do to walk around my home.
I hope that you too have a “big hill” type of challenge in your life. Something you do from time to time to remind yourself that you are stronger than you think. To remind yourself that your mind is a powerful tool that can take you places you wouldn’t normally be able go.
I think of that often when I watch my boys run or think of my husband pushing my duo bike up mile long hills in the middle of a marathon. Their minds have to be strong to do those kinds of things. Things that defy any good explanation. In my opinion, runners are truly some of the best and most mentally strong athletes on the planet. I’ve had a lot of time to observe runners from my duo bike. It’s admirable. It’s fascinating to me.
Humble courage means getting comfortable with where you are and accepting not knowing exactly where you are going. None of us do. That can be a scary thought, especially when it involves a disease that greedily takes what we value most: our independence.
It takes humble courage to keep moving forward, but we must. We must keep on keeping on, proving to ourselves we can do really hard things.
Until next time …
Amy Shinneman is a former National Ambassador for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, disability blogger, wife, and mom of two boys. You can find her blog at humblycourageous.com and reach her on Instagram @ashinneman.
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