I ran around in the dark for 7.8 km/4.8 miles tonight, but I couldn’t find Frostbite Falls. It must be close, I can smell the campfire and hear happy Penguins cavorting in the hot tub. I felt tense and cold, even though it was only -6C/21F outside.
The first 20 minutes of my run were absolutely joyful. Then I struggled with a gradual increase in elevation for a while, before plunging merrily down the longest downhill I know of in my neighbourhood. I came back up Apartment Hill in 2 minutes (yay for the time, ugh for the effort it took), and then dipped back down by the churches before heading back up the last hill home. At first I didn’t want to run that last one, but once I got going it wasn’t so bad and I shot right over the top.
Maybe this haiku says what I felt more succinctly:
Legs whining up hills.
Suck it up, you buttercup.
Get up to the top!