“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” Gal. 6:9

Day one consisted of a rather brutal dose of reality as we began our trek into the Shenandoah National Park. From lives of ease and comfort, we were suddenly thrown into a demanding hike with packs bursting with everything we would possibly need and then some for our 100 mile, ten day hike. The plan was to reach Calf Mountain shelter that afternoon, 7.5 miles into the park. That would be a short day, but with a late start at 2:00 PM in the afternoon and our packs as heavy as they would ever be, it was still a significant challenge for our first day. We gained and lost some 2000 feet in the process plus encountered a dozen or more fallen trees that had yet to be cleared from the trail. It was enough to make our green legs sore and stiff by morning. Day two brought the first real test as we stretched our aim in order to reach our next ready water source, Blackrock Hut. It turned out to have the most delightfully cold and clear running spring of our whole trip, but it came at the expense of 13 hard-won miles of steady hiking and another 3000 feet gained and lost. Our young hikers were pushed to their limit. We adults were straining to keep pace as well; especially with our over-sized and over-weight packs.

Everyone experienced some aches and pains that night and into the next day. I kept asking each one for a twice daily report of all their assorted sore places and none were exempt. But I kept promising that it would be better tomorrow. Some looked at me with doubt written all over their face. I kept telling myself that it would be better the next day and drew some comfort from that as I nursed my own hopes and doubts. I had remembered that on previous trips that it always seemed to take a couple of days before I gained what I called “my trail legs.” Somehow, I had still not obtained them, and I began to question.

Day three was shorter; only eight miles with 2000 ft. of up and down. Spirits began to pick up and complaints lessened. But day four made up for the easy one with 14 miles of more ups and downs than we cared to remember. By then, however, our legs had adjusted, our harnesses had become familiar, and the pace became steadier. Finally, our team was admitting that, “Yes, the first three days were the worst.” We had hiked through the pain of this new means of existence and our bodies had acclimated to the stresses and strains. It was reassuring to realize that we now could actually do this without experiencing constant pain. Our strength grew and the endurance levels increased.

It is a valuable lesson to learn with any new activity in life. In the beginning, there will be times of discomfort, stress, and even pain until either/both our bodies and/or spirits become adjusted to the distress placed upon them. We have to learn to “hike through the pain.” It is essential for any athlete to transcend initial resistance in order to gain a higher level of strength and endurance. So it is also essential in a marriage to “hike through the pain” of those initial months and years of adjustment. Students who have had to struggle through a tough class, nearing despair at times, and who emerge successful on the other side are much more assured of success in graduating from any and all schools they attend; more so than those for whom everything comes easy. Resistance overcome through persistence creates strength whether it be sports, relationships, or academics.

By now, some of you are already encountering hardship in this new year whether as a student, parent, or teacher. I am already hearing of some aches and pains associated with the hills we are now climbing. It is time for us to reassure one another that it will get easier. Our part for now is to “hike through the pain.” Stay the course. Better days are ahead. Be encouraged. You will soon get your “trail legs.”

Mercy and Truth, Mr. Moe