I was waiting in line looking up at the enormous mountain in front of me. The chair looped around the towering conveyor belt ahead. It moved with a loud squeak to signal us to move forward. With my brother at my right and my sister on my left, we struggle to move. Though tough at first we manage to move our heavy gear along with ourselves. We stare as the chair that will take us to the top swerves around the structure that is now behind us. The chair slows as it comes behind our rears. We sit down on the chair, our gear weighing us down. We try to imagine the task afoot but simply cannot. When we reach the top there is no telling what challenges we might face. Will our ability be able to withstand them? Will our mission immediately become a failure? No one will know until we reach the top. We try to imagine other things to talk about like the beautiful view or how great we’ve done on the last task we proudly completed. We, however, failed and could only think of the horrible things that could happen when we reach the top.
The fresh snow coated the ground lightly. Wind smacked my face. The cold whipped me around like a soccer ball. The hill, steep ahead of me. ‘Will I do it? Will I go down this hill?’ repeated in my head a hundred times. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go down the hill. My dad nodded at me to encourage me to go down the hill. My heart beat increased. My knees shook. This was my first blue hill. ‘What if I fall? What if I don’t make it to the bottom of the hill alive? I know that if I give up now I’ll never have the courage to go down the hill again. I have to do it. I have to. I tell myself it will be okay over a million times. I know that I can’t do it, but if my dad thinks I can, I won’t let him down. I move forward using my poles to turn to face toward my dad. I feel every muscle ache for the pain yet to come. I take one more glance down the hill. I turn toward my dad who is now staring at me, anxious to go down the hill. I nod back.
The fresh snow coated the ground lightly. Wind smacked my face. The cold whipped me around like a soccer ball. The hill, steep ahead of me. ‘Will I do it? Will I go down this hill?’ repeated in my head a hundred times. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go down the hill. My dad nodded at me to encourage me to go down the hill. My heart beat increased. My knees shook. This was my first blue hill. ‘What if I fall? What if I don’t make it to the bottom of the hill alive? I know that if I give up now I’ll never have the courage to go down the hill again. I have to do it. I have to. I tell myself it will be okay over a million times. I know that I can’t do it, but if my dad thinks I can, I won’t let him down. I move forward using my poles to turn to face toward my dad. I feel every muscle ache for the pain yet to come. I take one more glance down the hill. I turn toward my dad who is now staring at me, anxious to go down the hill. I nod back.