On August 23, everyone at training camp had to participate in a fitness hike. The goal was to hike 2.2 miles in 38 minutes while carrying your pack. There were hills involved. A few people didn’t make it the first day but they were given a chance to try again and passed.
Fitness hike? Awesome! I love hiking and do it all the time and with much bigger elevation changes than what they’ll have. 2.2 miles is pretty short and 38 minutes is more than enough time. Even with a pack it should be pretty easy. I normally carry 15lb or more on hikes anyways. Especially, when it’s a longer hike and I need more water or go with my family and carry Jeriah.
Then I injured my shoulder and was told I wouldn’t be able to carry my pack. (More on that story here.)
Really, God? Why now? I want to carry my pack. I feel like I’m slacking if I don’t. What will other people think? Is there a way I could at least carry my day pack? Maybe I’ll run it. I don’t want to go too fast and seem to be showing off especially since I’m not carrying my pack. I don’t want to go too slow either.
The morning of the hike came and I still hadn’t figured out how to handle the fact that I would be doing it without my pack. The trainers and some of my squad mates had told me that my job would be to keep pace and encourage others. But I didn’t want to – not without my pack. We set off in our teams and at first, I went at a faster pace because I just wanted to be done with it. Before long, God started speaking to me about my attitude but I wasn’t exactly willing to listen.
Yes, I know what I should do but I don’t feel like it. I feel like I’m slacking. Look! Everyone else has their packs. And here comes the big hill. I could run up this. How much harder it is with a pack? Now, look. Everyone is spreading out. There’s no way I can encourage them when they’re so spread out. Why should I even try? The ones in the back probably need the most encouragement but I don’t want to take forever on this hike. It’s bad enough that I’m having to do it without my pack. Maybe I’ll catch up to the front people from the squad and then when they finish go back for the stragglers.
I started to go faster so I could follow through with my plan when God asked me, “what about your team?” Between that and the fact that I hate not being aware of where everyone is when I’m hiking, I slowed down and started really looking around.
This is not normal for me. I almost always stay in the back so I can keep track of everyone and know whether or not they need help. Why am I behaving differently this time? Where is my team? Who is struggling the most? Is there any way I can help them?
I located all the members of my team and who they were with and then adjusted my pace so that I could stay with Shea. I didn’t say much because, to be honest, I felt like anything I would say would be inadequate.
I can’t give any encouragement. It would seem weird. I’m not good with words. This hike isn’t physically challenging for me, especially without my pack. And yet, this is so much harder than I thought it would be. Is it weird that not having my pack made this hike harder for me? Why?
I focused on keeping up a strong pace and staying with Shea. Part way through, she mentioned that her right knee was hurting and she didn’t think she could run any more. I tried to adjust the pace so that we were going fast enough to make it in time but not pushing too hard and making her knee give out. Looking back, I don’t remember saying all that much as we walked but it was nice to not be on my own as I fought battles in my head.
Sometime during training camp – whether it was during the hike or later when processing through the hike – I came to the realization that I have tended to find my identity in being independent.
I don’t need anybody else. I can do this on my own. If I’m not physically strong enough to overcome this obstacle then I can use my brain and find a way around it. I am strong. I am independent. I don’t need help. I refuse to ask for help.
That kind of thinking isn’t healthy. Nor is it Biblical. I was created to be part of a community. And that’s one reason why I joined the World Race.
