It gets better; it really does.
At first you feel daunted. Then you lie to yourself and say it’ll be easy. You begin.
You take your first few steps. Hey, it’s not too bad.
You jaunt along, happy with your progress, until you encounter the first challenge to surmount.
You’ve been used to the smooth, level paths of home. Now you have to face mountains.
It seems impossible. You struggle and fight, chiding yourself for not being stronger while excusing yourself for not pressing on.
You think of quitting. Now would be the perfect opportunity to try something new, you say. Forget this. Whose idea was it anyways? I’m not made for this.
The ups and downs kill you. At first.
But after a while, you get stronger. You glare at the undulations, daring them to make you slow down or stop. You slam one foot down and then the other, defying the ache of moving forward and upward.
And it gets better. Running on hills gets better.
So, have faith and persevere, my fellow natives of the coastal plains and pancake-like midlands. All is not lost when you move to some place hilly. Keep running! Walk up those evil slopes at first if you must, but don’t give in. Give it a few months. Yes, months. Before you know it, you’ll be plodding uphill like you were born on an incline.
And just wait til you return to the gloriously, sensibly horizontal roads of home. Oh how you’ll fly!