Wednesday, July 16, 2008

You Better Run


I tackled a huge monster of a hill last night and I'm paying for it today. I hurt.

I had to run several miles to get to the bottom of a mountain. Then, since I had run that far, I decided to see how far up I could go. I wasn't feeling it, so I just figured I'd go up a little ways.

I ran up it a little ways, up to a point where it begins to get dramatically steeper. I could hear the traffic above me on a major road that marks a midpoint in the mountain climb. So I said to myself, "you've come this far. Why not just run up this really steep part until you get to that road? Then turn back."

So I began chugging up that virtual cliff of a road, huffing and puffing and still not feeling strong enough to attempt the mountain just yet. Finally I reached the road. I was gasping for air, but I had reached my goal so I stopped and walked in circles while I contemplated going back.

Then my evil brain whispering to me again, "since you've stopped and caught your breath anyway, why not cross over and try to reach the very top? You're SO close now."

Apparently I'm easily influenced, at least, by my own brain. So off I went across a 5 lane winding mountain road where people go like hell.

Once I'd reached the other side, the dramatic steep incline continued, up, up, up into million dollar houses perched high atop solid stone. And there I was out in the street in front of their mansions puffing and gasping and chugging up their exclusive mountainside community. I thought I was going to die.

I was pumping my arms like mad climbing up that damn millionaire mountain. The higher I got the steeper it got, as if it were trying to expel me for not be the right sort of person to be there. The topmost section of the climb turned out to be longer than I remembered from when I drove through it earlier that same day to check it out and plan my attack. In fact, it felt as if it was about a mile longer.

It was already 8 pm when I left the house. It probably took me at least 45 minutes just to get to the bottom of the mountain, so by now it must have been after 9.

There I was, late at night in a rich mountain community where houses look like castles, pumping my arms and legs and gasping desperately for breath out in the street. I thought briefly about stopping. Just about then I reached a road that I remembered leading to the final stretch, the very last part, the PEAK.

Oh my God, that road was STEEEEEP. I was barely moving up that hill at hall, despite all my pumping of arms and legs and deep wheezy gasping for air.

Finally, I reached the intersection with the very last road, the steepest one of all.

I turned onto the final stretch of road, the final monster. I was hardly moving up that bitch even though I was pumping my arms and picking up my knees as hard as I could. I was just slowly creeping upwards.

Finally, almost unbelievably, I made it to the top.

Once I reached the end, there were two red diamond shaped signs marking that the street dead-ended there. I jogged up to one of the signs and whacked it, sort of high-fiving it and marking that I had been there. If I could have I would have peed on it. "Steve was here!" Then I turned around and looked back at where I had been. I was so high up that I could see the entire city off in the distance down the mountain. It was an awesome view.


Then it was time to go all the way back down again, which was murder on my already aching knees, and jog all the way home.

I got home at 10 pm with my knees aching and a blister on my foot. I hadn't intended to climb that mountain just yet. Now that I've done it I need to find another one to shoot for. But first I need to recover. Good God, that was rough.

This morning I found a website that lets runners map their courses and shows them the mileage they've run. It was 3 miles to the bottom of that mountain, and 1 mile from bottom to top. The total distance I had to run was 8.2 miles. The bottom of the mountain was at an elevation of 594 feet. The very top, where I whacked the sign, was at an elevation of 1194 feet. I think I deserve a beer for that.

And now for a little music to run to ...



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