Exciting Adventures Waiting

I was running today after work. My route had more hills than I anticipated and with each vertical climb I looked more and more like a thirsty castaway stumbling to shore than a graceful runner crossing the finish line.  My ego tells me she's too fragile to quit, so I trudge on.  As I reach the top of each hill I smile and enjoy my tumble downward expending little energy to keep myself upright. I start thinking about my childhood and how we used to sled down this big hill in the park near our house.  It wasn't a super high hill, but it was very steep and took my breath away every time I scooted myself over the edge.  I thought about how many times we climbed that hill with our sled in hand, muscles burning, frozen feet, and an excitement that carried us quickly to the top just to sail downward again.  How many hours did we slide down and climb up, slide down and climb up, slide down and climb up?
The hill in front of me now looks a lot different than my childhood hill.  The slope seems steeper, there are more trees in the way, and the bumps are rockier.  And, why am I no longer excited to climb these hills in my life for the thrill of sailing back down?  Why do I dread every uphill battle in my life? Why do I complain every time I have to work on something?  Why do I whine and cry when things don't go my way?  Maybe it's because I forgot that when I get back to the top there's an exciting adventure waiting.