I woke up to a particularly difficult phone call from my dear friend Bubba this morning.  It went something like this.

Bubba: We’re running to the top of Twin Peaks today.

Me: No we’re not.

Bubba: Yes we are.

Me: Not a f***ing chance dude.

Bubba: It’s happening.  We’re running to the top of Twin Peaks.

Me: That’s so aggressive.

Bubba: Precisely.  We’re going.

Me: Nope.

Bubba: Yep.

Me: No.

Bubba: Yes.

This same back-and-forth continued on in this same fashion for about the next hour during which I came up with about every excuse in the book to get out of the run and Bubz stayed steadfast in his decision that Operation Twin Peaks was happening.

You see, it’s not that I’m against running, well actually I totally am.  I never liked it.  From my days in lower school when we used to have to do Presidential Fitness testing (I walked).  To upper school when I decided to join the track team….as a thrower.  The only time I actually enjoyed running was when I played lacrosse, I guess because there was a goal involved, literally.  But that was ten years ago (eek!) and I’ve pursued many other fitness options since then, many of which I never thought I would take seriously and enjoy such as cycling, swimming, and dance.  For the past year I’ve been in and out of order due to a torn meniscus, which became a totally valid and legitimate excuse excuse for avoiding running.  Until it was brought to my attention that running might actually be a good thing for my knee.  Curiosity killed the cat, so I took myself out for a little jog around the neighborhood park and to my surprise, my knee felt totally a-ok.  And even better: ***I*** felt fantastic afterwards.  And that was just yesterday, so the fact that my amigo wanted me to haul my ass up to the top of an urban mountain was just a joke.  I didn’t want to traumatize my body into hating this renaissance I’m currently dipping my toes into.  Slowly, but surely is the name of my running game.

I made up every excuse as to why I couldn’t run to the top of Twin Peaks.  But, excuses are weak and no match for the barrage of aggressive persuasion I was enduring.  We compromised on an interval walk the flats/run the hills.  It’s only Day Two after all!  After a bit of huffing and puffing and complaining and questioning of the amount of Bulleit I consumed last night we made it to the top of Twin Peaks.  On a gloriously sunny Saturday, there is nothing like the view from the top of Twin Peaks: Golden Gate Bridge, Bay Bridge, Ocean, Richmond Bridge, and most importantly— the hill that we just made it to the top of.  #countit

Other than the fact that it’s difficult to do, I really have no reason to dislike running I’ve discovered.  I’m now thinking that if I channel all of the energy I could spend avoiding running into actually getting better at it, then I can probably find joy in the activity.  I mean, if I can teach myself to like olives (hello, castelveltranos!), there is hope that I can get on board with running!