My husband and I have navigated a lot of trails together. And whether hiking, biking or running, one thing is always true of him: he always wants to get to the highest or furthest point of the route and he will give it all he’s got to achieve it. Me? If I’m tired enough I can content myself with looking ahead at the peak, appreciating its fabulous perspective from a distance, turning around and making my way home again. Tim? Never.
Just the other day, we were cycling a particularly challenging route and my legs were tired. I was ready to make the turn into the return stretch, but Tim would have none of it. “We’ve come too far to turn back now,” he said.
Since that moment – and yes, we did cycle on to a really great viewpoint that was absolutely worth the climb – that phrase has stuck with me. It's a truth that could be applied to so many experiences of life.
How many times do I put my focus on the present discomfort, so that I would do almost anything to remove myself from those circumstances? I take my eyes off the end-game, the beauty of the end result that lies ahead and whose achievement is of ultimate value and worth. My misplaced focus makes it hard for me to draw upon the reserves of energy that could be available to me and instead I get the feeling that it is impossible to go on.