The New Year with an old body.

I am still sore from sledding with the kids over Christmas break. I remember when I could and would sled for hours. The hills, large as they were, never seemed to matter nearly as much as the potential fun they promised. Now I found myself acting like the full time defender in a basketball game. Bent over holding my sides and telling the kids to go ahead and I would wait for the next run. (not that I would have ever experienced this)

I feel this same side splitting ache as I look at the hill of this year and wonder if it would be better to wait until the next ride. Not that I am quitting, its that the potential seems to be less than the effort it feels it will take to ride again. Why?

I think that after a year like we had, it feels daunting to think that this next hill could be higher. Yet with each loftier trek the each ride holds that much more potential for exhilarating fun. More fun, more danger, more excitement, more risk... More reward?

As I hold my knees and wait to catch my breath, the thoughts of faces flash through my mind. Faces of the many people that I have had the privilege to ride with on this journey. People who's lives I pray will never be the same for the ride. In my imagination I see these faces all turned toward the one who started this entire sledding idea.

Here I go again...