A potential employer told me to hold my study plan and focus on work. A snake told me otherwise.

Resumed hill running 4 months post rainy season and the routine seemed all new to my body again. With just me and a couple of fellow hikers in the late afternoon, I started slow with more walking and reduced speed, it took more than usual time to hit the peak. And with a little acrophobia in me, the descending was even longer. I was pretty focused in not tripping when a hiker in the front suddenly stopped, turned back and said: Snake.

Apparently he had stepped on the resting spot of a little bush snake, awakening the creature that had started to move again. He advised me to keep to my right to avoid it, but I didn’t hear it the first time. By the time he repeated, it was too late and I was right at the spot where the snake was. I had been on the same hill for 3 years and other than some cunning monkeys and wild boars, never been really expecting any other dead or alive forest dwellers. Naturally, though harmless, it took me by great surprise and I did what one did best in panic. Run. I forgot about the descending slope, nor my height fear, I just ran. Most of the time “motivated” by the crawling creature going down the same direction as me, and the fact that the guy in front of me had long gone.

The rest I didn’t quite remember, only by the time I reached the bottom and checked on my watch, I had used half less the time than I usually did for timid descend. Other than the gasping for breath and dripping sweat to prove that I wasn’t dreaming it, I felt unusually calm from the little episode. I wasn’t even worried anymore. I just stood, cleaned my shoes, and contented I had got it done in my best time, forgetting what made me to.

Unexpected, sometimes a little push in life is what we need to change. A novelette to the story, I had recently decided to pursue a degree again, after getting restless in the thought that my current skill and experience might not be sufficient in an fast-paced AI-world in the very near future. Despite the queries and doubts, I am still going ahead for it seriously — and eagerly.

Because whatever push you get, it’s unlikely to last long. On my second run yesterday, I was back with slow, acrophobic descend with only fear. Of course I don’t fancy stepping on a snake again, but I’d love to wonder what’s the next push is.