I am grinning from ear to ear right now because I finally excised my altitude-running demons this morning on a 10-miler up a steep incline. This, of course, after two days of running with an imaginary monster squeezing my head with a vice and pounding on my chest with a fist.
This was the turnaround, at mile 5, where the cross country team, a few parents and I took a break for some good old fashioned Gatorade.
Last year I adjusted pretty quickly to the elevation, but this year it has been much more difficult. My mind even wandered to that very dark place where you think that you may never feel good on a run again and even consider taking up golf or lawn bowling instead.
But these kids are amazing. They have run up mountains every day without a single complaint.
On the other hand, I have been no Mary-freaking-Poppins.
Though I have been putting on my happy face in front of them.
“This is awesome! Huff. Puff. Spit. Freaking amazing! Huff. Puff. Spit. Look at that amazing view!”
You can imagine my elation when today I put on my running shoes and hit the trail, suddenly feeling as light as a feather and ready for whatever hill that might so rudely jump in front of me.
I did it. Ten miles.
God bless those Mammoth Track Club runners. God bless ‘em.