Life of Wry

You know you live in flatsville when a railroad overcrossing is the highest point in town.

In my earnest, yet somewhat vain, attempt to squeeze 6 months of recommended training into 3 weeks, I hit the overpass at Covell and F again today, this time with a backpack full of books (please don’t try to picture this).  I think we ascended–a word that will take on entirely new significance in about 2 weeks–the pass 12 times today.  We being Lorilyn and me.  Twelve was all that we had time for, plus, OH MY FREAKING LORD it is monotonous.  Having someone to talk to is a good idea.

Last Monday I bagged the pass 14 times, and a few days before that, maybe 12.  With nobody to talk to.

I tell you, this is training at its most desperate.

For your information, it takes exactly eight minutes to cover the distance between the bus stop across the street from the Davis Art Center and the fire hydrant near the corner of J Street.  That provides you with two go-ups and two go-downs.  The west side is steeper, and the railing, pictured above, is a perfect place to do a whole bunch of stretches.  While you stretch, you can take in a very nice view of the thoroughly rain-soaked Little League fields.

And that’s just about all there is to say about that.