The Hills And Such

This afternoon I came to the impasse that every runner comes to at one point or another. I stood at the window of my office, carefully examining the windshield wiper of every passing car. According to my own experimental/fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants training program, I needed to do a hill workout today, then two days rest before a ten mile run on Sunday. All in preparation for the “Hilly Half” I will be running in just over two weeks. The only thing standing between me and calves like cement blocks was a little precipitation. Should I go, or stay and eat spreadable cheese and watch the Detroit Tigers? You could always do hills tomorrow night. I told myself. Except that I knew the temptation to skip tomorrow would be even greater. Finally I decided that the intermittent use of windshield wipers were a sign from the Running Gods, Carpe Diem or whatever. So I went, and I ran the S shaped curves in the small town where I went to high school. Other than a guy burning trash at the top of the hill (at the exact point where my lungs begged for more air mind you) it was good. In fact it was great. It was transcendental.