so i figured, go for it. i mean why not? sure it’s been years. and years. seven? something like that. but in all that time i’ve never found anything like it, so … ok then.
i walked my mountain. ok, hill. whatever. it’s two miles and a sixty story building, is what it is, give or take i have no idea the exact numbers. goes like this: park 1/3 mile away, time to warm up, get blood flowing, ’cause the hill doesn’t mess around. first couple hundred yards are like, vertical. i make that and i have to stop. have. to. stop. lean on somebody’s fence, take in the view, argue with myself a bit, and finally order myself on up. and up. and … all in all four stops to the top. ahh. the top. the rush. the wind in my beet red sweaty face. woo.
and down, down is just a different set of muscles. need less wind so can get fancy with the walking weights. swing ’em one way and it works the triceratops, while the hill itself is working the quadraptors and the tyrannosaurus maximus, i mean we are feeling the burn. bottom of the hill’s a little further from the car, time to do some different things – extend weights, swing arms straight, which i can feel everywhere from the late triassic all the way to the mesozoic, oh my yes i can.
that’s the best looking dirty buick i’ve ever seen in my whole life, man.