eavesdropping

This photo has absolutely nothing to do with the post. Just Rivs exploring with a bag of cookies, and loving life!

I ran 16 miles today. Eight of which traveled straight up the mountain, on a trail that is arguably "one of the most challenging [races] in the world." In the first seven miles Canberra and I ran 3,500 ft. But before race day we still have 4,500 ft. to go, before reaching Pikes Peak Summit. 

This is one of those runs, that the more you do it, the more intimidating it becomes. As my legs were shaking, my camel back drained, and the little food we brought vanished, I look out to see the top of the Peak, and holy cow! It's forever away! But my goodness we had a great time on the way up the trail. That's one thing, the higher you go (at least to a certain point :) the more enjoyable it becomes. The crowds disappear, the aspens flourish, wildflowers surround you, and the air is brisk in 8 am air. I just loved our run up. 

The only problem, once you run up 3,500 ft. you have to run down 3,500 ft. And however crazy it sounds, it takes almost as long for me to run down as up! I don't know, I guess it's a combination of the slipping rocks, the rolled ankle, the side ache (that always just appears on drastically steep downhill runs), and of course, yes, the knees (ouch!). To put it simply, I have yet to master downhill running. With all the uphill running I'm doing this summer, possibly I will conquer downhill running as well - because however much I hate downhill it's inevitable. What goes up must come down. 

Anyways, while I run, things are really quiet. It's just Canberra and me. And not a lot of conversation goes on between us. We just enjoy being in one another's company. So with all the silence, naturally comes plenty of listening. I don't mean to listen to other's conversation. But on the crowded portion of the Barr Trail (the trail that leads down from the incline), sometimes it's inevitable. By the time the crowd slimmed down to nearly nothing, I couldn't help but laugh as I observed the many people who entertained me on the first 2.5  miles on my run. 

To start things off, there's the two middle aged women running down yelling, either so the other could hear her, or because of the topic of conversation but either way . . . . "And he is just obsessed with the fact that he thinks I had an affair!" Wow. Okay. Canberra and I keep our heads down and continue traveling up the challenging climb.  

Some men are stopped on the side trying to all sit in the shade. Not too much is going on. We continue up. A couple more women are hiking down. "Oh yea. He has gone on two dates this past week! And it really seems like the girls see his potential." 

We continue up. As we come upon a group of four teenage girls. All dressed in flourscent colored sports bras and tiny black shorts, and faces covered in bright very fun makeup. The first one whips around to see Canberra and exclaims in a high pitched squeal possibly using all the energy she has inside of her "Oh look guys! A dog!!!!!!" That one actually happens quite often (just not the level of squeal, that I heard today :). Trust me, it's not just 3 year old kids who are fascinated by seeing a dog. All ages love them (or hate them) but Canberra gets way way way more attention on the trail than I ever do. :) But even with all her attention, I still haven't mastered a response to that one. So I just smile and keep heading up the mountain. Canberra always seems a little shy, and sticks tight to my side. 

Then there's the lady yelling at the silent guy "I have never. No never. In my entire career. Ever, been treated like that. Who do they think they are?!" Not a good day apparently. 

Canberra and I are now nearing the top (the top meaning where the incline drops everyone off at the Barr Trail - yes, still 11 miles to go to actually reach the Peak's summit). There are two guys, I would say 21, possibly 22 racing down the mountain. The front guy yells to the back guy (in all seriousness). "We need to make a safety word. How about the safety word is - potato. Since you're behind, if you fall, yell, 'potato!'  That way, I know to stop and come back for you."
All I know is if I fell bad enough to actually need assistance, I wouldn't be thinking of yelling "potato." I would probably scream and then yell "hey Fred, come help me." Or possibly "stop." But potato? So funny. 

It's so funny to evaluate the topic of conversation, men vs. women. Women were so dramatic and very geared towards relationships. And men, well, pretty basic - total survival. :)