It is not unusual for me to question my own sanity when I am struggling up a hill on a cold and wet day. On those days when I could be sitting in a warm room, maybe watching an exciting, or at least interesting, film on my T.V. munching away on some fresh popcorn; instead I’m suffering up a hill. I am getting good exercise, of course, and I know somehow it is good for my soul but I cannot deny that I have willingly undertaken to suffer.
When the sun is shining and views are expansive it is easy to take another lung full of sweet fresh air and to wonder at the glory of the world all around me. On days like that it is easy to understand why I would go through the agony of climbing a steep hill, after all some views can only be seen by those who bother to leave the car and take a long walk. Yet, some days you can not see further than a few feet in front of you and the struggle is made even more intense by the need to carry more clothes on a cold day and wear thick waterproofs to keep out the rain. What would motivate someone to do that?
I once heard a mountaineer say in response to the question “why do you do it?” that “if you are asking that question then you will not be able to understand the answer.” I understand just what they meant. Any answer that I give to such a question will, by it’s nature, be very unsatisfying because the only way to truly answer the question is to take to the hills and walk.
I like words, I also like pictures and film but there are still some things in the universe that it is impossible to successfully describe. The feeling, for instance, of holding your new born child or watching a sunset next to the love of your life. Poets come close but only because they reawaken some deep memory in us that makes us feel again that moment we remember but have never been able to describe.
I can not successfully describe to you why I like to walk but it is my experience that if you take the trouble to try it, and maybe come with me on a walk one day, and maybe in the wet and windy weather as we just crest the top of the hill the penny will drop and somewhere deep inside you a light will come on and you will then be able to stand on the top of that hill buffeted by the wind and without having to say a thing you will know why I do it, and then like me you will be wondering when the next chance will come to do this all again.