The good thing about beginning marathon training on the West Coast is the flat ground and dry heat.
The bad thing about it is re-entering the SouthEast, and while everyone else is grateful that the humidity is finally starting to break, I walk outside and can barely breathe. Acclimating = fun times.
The lucky thing about having a sister who is a runner (and a kick-ass runner at that) is not having to face the hills and humidity alone. She accompanied me on a three-mile run on Thursday in her very hilly neighborhood in Greenville.
I warned her that I was going to slow her down, as I was not used to hills. She warned me that she was going to slow me down, as she’d not had time to run since she’s a new mom. So, we set out together, both of us questioning our abilities.
We ran for about a mile, and then there was a hill to run up. Pretty much straight up. And we went for it. And she was running so fast, I was just trying to keep up, not slow her down. And so I held my own, as much as I didn’t feel want to. And then, right before I asked for a walk break, I glanced at my watch. We’d been running 8:28 mile, and it had been a tough hill.
During that walk break I commented to her, “We were keeping a pretty good pace for that hill.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You were running really fast.”
“Me? I was just keeping up with you!”
“No!” she said, “I was trying to keep up with you!”
This is what sisters are for. I told her we should race together, in that case!