Nothing major to report this week--no naked bums on bike seats or PRs set. I continue being a cross-training maven, even slicing-and-dicing my Sunday long run. I only have a week left on my membership at my gym with a pool (I wasn't using it enough to justify the nearly $100/month fee), and I'm trying to squeeze in as many delicious swims as possible. So I drove to my club an hour before it opened, parked, and ran from there up Portland's most notorious hills--Terwilliger. It's not killer steep, just continuous for almost two miles.
I thought back on the first time I ever ran it, with my friend Ellison. It had seemed daunting, making my lungs want to jump out of my chest onto the pavement. Yet yesterday I felt like I was on a giant conveyer belt, effortlessly moving up the hill. The only hitch in my giddy-up was a lone car coming upon me while I was copping a modified squat (pee only!) in my running skirt. I just laughed at myself and kept running.
I trotted back to my then-open gym and hopped in the pool, getting in about a mile before the Masters group took over the lanes. I topped off my workout with an impromptu trip to Trader Joe's so I could cook a real meal for my man on Father's Day. I was home by 10 a.m., feeling a delicious sense of accomplishment.