Tough As Nails

The engines that could.

I won’t say “little engines,” because when God made my daughter’s goat, He gave him the body of a Prius, but—apparently, all He had left was big block engines, because this small goat (Puff), has a big block in him.

Anyway, this is Puff’s first higher mileage hike with his new-custom-made pack saddle. We wanted to make sure it fit him well, before adding weight so he can help his girl, my daughter, carry some things.

As for my daughter, she isn’t little anymore, but she is still figuring out what she can do.

I remind her that when your muscles are burning, your hair is plastered with sweat to your head, and you feel like you can’t do it—that’s the time to say to yourself “I’m tough as nails.”

And it’s at this point, you can go ahead and laugh a little at yourself, because you know you bleed blood when you’re hurt, and some days you don’t feel even a bit brave or strong. But when you keep taking a step, and then another, you’re a little bit tougher than you were.

So when my beautiful girl starts to look like a deflated balloon on a hike, when the sighing begins at the sight of another steep incline, I belt out, “You’re tough as nails!”

She giggles, but fist pumps toward the sky and keeps going.

May “You’re tough as nails” also translate to everything else in her life.

And you too. Keep going.

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