On my run Saturday, I painfully dragged myself up the long hill that’s always the hardest part of my route. I was trying to take it easy--I still had two weeks of vacation lethargy and Parisian wine making my muscles flabby and my will weak--but I wanted to beat that hill. I always know that I haven’t completely let myself go if I can beat the hill.
Once I did, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned right to begin the descent back down to where I lived.
But a voice shouted at me. It was loud enough that I could hear it over Trent Reznor caterwauling in my iPod headphones.
“Don’t give up now! Take the stairs!”
I turned around, and a brunette girl was effortlessly bounding over the hill that I had just painfully climbed. I said, “Heh?”
It was confusing. Runners don’t talk to each other. They run past each other and exchange a look that says “Hey, how are you. I’m a runner, and I am acknowledging that you’re a runner, and collectively we are totally better than bikers, yoga enthusiasts, and mud wrestlers combined. I now bid you adieu.” The look says all this. It’s true.
I was about to continue on my way, but I got curious. “What stairs?” I shouted at her.
“These stairs!”
She started running up a long concrete staircase. I had seen those stairs in the many years I had taken this run, but I always assumed that they belonged to a private residence. Plus, this was always as far as I had climbed; I always turned around and jogged home from this point.
“Aren’t those private stairs?”
“No! Come on!”
She seemed to be floating up the steps. I, on the other hand, slowly pounded my way through them as though I was trying to run up a down escalator. But I could see she was right: the concrete steps ran between two houses, a public staircase that allowed people to quickly shoot up the hill. It was like being in a real-life game of Chutes and Ladders.
And at the top, a gorgeous, gleaming view of Oakland almost made me forget that people were probably shooting guns at each other down below.
My tour guide quickly made a left hand turn and continued up yet another flight of concrete steps. At that point, my will flagged and I continued on down. But today I ran up both flights of steps. And the view was even better at the top of the second one. And I’m very glad to know that they exist, and I’m very glad that someone took the time to show me that no matter how well I think I know an area, and how exhausted I might be, there’s always a way to reach the next level.
Great stuff, man. It’s neat to hear about this side of you. And you’re right. There’s always another great challenge ahead if you’re the type to push yourself.
Well, good for you. I personally will take the elevator.
That was a really good post, Greg, and well told. Please don’t let that get lost in what you know I have to write next.
This could have ended much differently and been an excellent Penthouse forum letter.
Only if I had a chance of catching her, CW. Only if I had a chance of catching her.
I was waiting for the part where you chased after her “turtle dove!” gasping for air “You complete me!”
I think the whole experience was one long exhaustion-induced hallucination. There were no stairs. There was no girl.
As a seasoned runner myself, I can attest that these types of mental glitches are very common. In fact, this happens to me everytime I run, except it’s one of Willy Wonka’s Oompah Loompahs beckoning me up the “magic stairs.”
This is exactly like when I reach a hard part in Super Mario and want to give up, frustrated because I keep losing my feathers and my friend Sam shows me the secret ladders and beanstalks!
Seriously though, this was, as Vox would say, good. You rock. You know this right?
I love that. She showed you a little gem. A change of course. I felt the run for some reason.
That look, that runner’s look. Poetic and the solid truth. It’s like you have some crazy need to let the other person know how cool you think each other are for running. Look at us, we run!
Brilliant. This is my most favorite blog post yet. You should’ve gotten her number! Chase after the girl....they liked to be chased. Love the running “looks” sentence. I totally agree...or in computer land ITA!
Oh wait. I guess I dont know if you’re single and straight. LOL, maybe I should have asked that first. Are you?
that was inspiring. I feel as if I had done this myself. In fact, I feel so fulfilled, exercise-wise, I’m just going back to sleep, with the pony-keg tap within easy reach. Thank you, Greg. That’s one less hill *I* have to climb.
Was she wearing a sleeveless light blue, REI overstock, easy-wicking running top? Because, if so, that woman is totally Death. She sometimes tries to make me do another ten minutes on the ellipse machine, but I’m not falling for it.
This was inspiring. You should be a life coach.
Did you know that your blog (entries from 2003) is in the first page of Google results if you search on “martha stewart” “time to make one”?
Gotta chase the muse! Maybe next time…