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Friday, June 21, 2013

Sometimes the hardest part of the run is getting from the front porch to the car

Yes, it’s true.  Usually, sometimes when I make it to the truck, the hardest part of my run is over.  At times it takes that much mental power to get out the door.  I write you no lie – it took me the good part of THREE hours this morning to convince myself not to let my ankle rest one more day.  And I probably could have let my ankle rest one more day.  But I have begun to feel like a sloth.

Late morning, as the weather began to heat up on this first day of summer, my feet finally hit the dirt in Wood Canyon.  I’m not sure if it was my running rest or work on a straight column, but my trudge up Cholla was quite comfortable.  Sure, my shirt was drenched in sweat.  But I never felt the misery.  Perhaps that means I need to now increase my speed. Winking smile

Ankle report:  a slight discomfort on the downhills.  I could also feel my ankle weakness.  I nearly rolled it a half-dozen times, and I’m not generally an ankle roller.

In all, I’m delighted to have made that trip from the front porch to the car.  6.5 hilly miles does wonders for the soul.

Heading up Cholla Trail:

Looking down Wood Canyon:

Final Stretch up to Top of the World:

View of Pacific Ocean from West Ridge:

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