Hills are not my friends. When I began running, I was nestled into the flat confines of the frozen tundra that is called the Midwest, more specifically — Chicago. Sure, working in a skyscraper had me taking the stairs every once in a great while. But I wasn’t training on them. My idea of “incline” was a button on the treadmill.
Yes, there are a few hills in Chicago… but they’re called bridges and even they pale in comparison to the hills I ran on yesterday in my new Northwest running grounds.
Being back in the Northwest has showed me why the Chicago marathon is called a “fast race.”
Now, my bridges are replaced with rolling hills, minus the traffic and a bit of added solitude from the busyness that is a city with millions of people. Sure, I miss running with a group of people when I wasn’t actually in a running group… it’s just that there are so many runners that you seem to be part of a running group (Hard Care Runners Club).
While Chicago has been one of the best cities I’ve ever lived in, I’ve enjoyed trading skyscrapers for mountains, traffic lights for trees and running groups for “a” running group. Less noise and more solitude has allowed me to let all of this change renew my passion for running.
With it, I’ve started training for the Yakima River Canyon Marathon on April 4. And let me tell you, there are more than a few hills on this route. And even though hills are not my friends, they are certainly not my foes. They’ve given me new routes to traverse and new paths to ponder life’s biggest questions.
While conquering these hills is my first priority, I realize that I cannot force greatness… but I can sure the hell train for it!