How Much Further

How Much Further?  

       Snowshoes

Giant flip-flops—Oohs 

Ahhs, walking on sunshine no 

sand between our toes.

We welcomed the fresh falling snow and by 9 a.m. the roads were clear to travel to my favorite place—Highland Forest in Fabius, NY. It was the first time both of my children strapped on “giant flip-flops” (as Delaney called them) to explore the woods.

They were ready to hike and excited to try out their new footgear. 

About 10 minutes in my daughter was ready to turn around. “My legs are tired, how much further do we have to go?”

I had to think fast about what I could do to help her shift her mindset. Her grumbles, deliberate stops, and slow shuffles along the trail were enough to set me in a spiral!

I’m not turning around only 10 minutes in—no way! Grr, why is she complaining?! 

Oh, Aunt Phoebe, (my inner judge) there you are— but I know just what to do. I’m not letting you ruin our time together. 

Meanwhile, Brindsley was leading the way in his glory! He had no idea what was going on. 

“Delaney let's stop, close our eyes, and listen. In a minute or two let’s open our eyes then we can share what we heard.”

She didn’t look pleased but watched me as I sat down in the snow and closed my eyes. I peeked to see her on a snow-covered log eyes closed and relaxed. (thank goodness)

We sat and listened…

Snow crunches—Brindsley continues ahead, a woodpecker, voices in the distance, barking sounds (a dog or a fox, oh! my imagination), my breath, and water trickles in the stream.

I opened my eyes and just then Delaney did too. We shared what we heard as we continued on the path. It seemed to help and we were almost to the part of the woods I wanted to show them.

Oh good! This is fun! Look at these evergreens, snow, and fresh air—peace. 

Two minutes later…

“Oh…this is the worst mama.” She stomped her pole in the snow and stood in protest. 

Well, maybe she isn’t going to be my hiking buddy after all. 

“We are almost there Delaney then we can sit and rest. One step at a time.”  

I hugged her.  

“Delaney you’re doing great and the place I wanted to show you is just around the bend. You’re so close.”  

She agreed to hike a few more feet to where Brindsley was waiting. We all took a break in the snow. Brindsley shared with us the poem he was creating as he hiked. He was so thrilled with himself. 

He announced, “I love snowshoeing.” 

Delaney shouted, “This is the worst!”

I tried not to laugh. I had to admit, I was glad my daughter wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. I would love for her to enjoy hiking as much as Brindsley and I do but she might not and that’s okay. I’m at least giving her the chance to figure it out. 

“Let’s head back.” I smiled with great energy hoping to cheer her up. She looked at me and grumbled under her breath. 

I sighed. What can I do to shift her mood? A piggyback ride? Can I carry her? 

Caption: Oh, that’s right I’m wearing snowshoes NOT sneakers. 

I had no idea if I could give her a piggyback ride wearing snowshoes—only one way to find out. 

“Piggyback time Delaney. Go stand up on the log and we will get going.”  

“Mama you can carry me and walk with snowshoes on?” 

“Yup Delaney,” in my most confident voice. 

She found a log and climbed on my back without hesitation. Her snowshoes dangled as I grabbed one leg so she wouldn’t slip off. My other hand held her pole. 

She started to giggle astonished that I was able to snowshoe with her on my back. I was surprised. We walked past a couple with shock on their faces.  

I started laughing and memories flooded in of the many times I took her on hikes as a toddler.  

“Delaney, did you know that I would carry you on my back using a backpack and we would hike with Brindsley? You loved it.” 

“I did?” 

“Oh yes, you did and we would sing and count as we hiked.” 

I carried her for a bit then she asked to be set down, “I’m ready to walk now mom.”  

I set her down, gave her back the pole, and she walked beside me. 

“Mom, I have this new energy, I can make it back,” she smiled.  

Oh phew! 

She began to hum and then sing. “Doe a deer a female deer…” 

We sang the rest of the way back. Her new energy was all over her face. We made it and she was thrilled she didn’t give up.  

This made me think of running and racing. When my mind shouts to slow down, stop, or focus on the pain where do I find my new energy to keep going? There have been plenty of races I would love to hitch a ride on someone's back yet I’m not sure that’s allowed! 

For me it’s the spectators, the cheers, high-fives, taking in extra nutrition, repeating mantras to myself or even singing like my daughter. At The Boston Marathon, it was yellow and blue sponges—ice cold handed out by caring strangers—exactly what I needed before The Newton Hills.  

What about you? Where do you find your “new energy” to keep going? Or who do you look to when you need a different view? 

I’m curious to know. Connect with me on substack at Run to Write: Transforming runs to words one poem at a time.