Thursday, November 14, 2019
Last night I ran up four hilltops. The seven-mile route originally has two uphill battles, but after the first uphill running south, I saw another to the east. In a split second decision, I ran it.
Ironically, my shuffled playlist plays, “Hills” by The Giving Moon ….
I kept running east up the hill until the end of the song. The hill got steep as fuck… I wanted to get to the top but I knew by then I’d have three hills to run. Although the moon was bright and it would’ve been nice to see it at the top, I had to preserve energy.
After walking back down I ran again, taking it easy on the way to my next hill. Then I saw this other hill. By the luck of a draw between two cross-walk signals, it was either which way to continue; the flat trail running west until the last hill, or add this one and run north. The walk signal to my right lit up, which meant the hill to run north.
So, I ran it.
After running the third hill I knew I’d miss the last hill continuing home. About .5 miles after hill three, I take a left to ensure I get the final hill of the original seven mile route. A slight down hill I went, then up north I ran, again.
Toward the top of the fourth and final hill, I almost stopped…. But with a step to a hop from the music in my ears, I sprinted the rest of the way up, spreading my arms, singing to oncoming traffic, and running further away from the runner who nearly gave up.
Although I didn’t see the moon at the top of hill two, hill four got to see the moon runner up north. I ran east toward the Beaver Moon in gratitude until returning home—all to recall how I used to get migraines running insane like this.
For the giving mood which added a hill, thank you to The Giving Moon who inspired me to chase a new thrill.