OK. So. Running at 5,280 feet when one is not used to it really sucks the breath right out of you. I got up early this morning to run Cheesman Park, a lovely spot near the neighborhood I’m staying in, Capitol Hill. Granted, it’s hilly, so I’m not sure if I was panting because of that or because of the altitude. But once I settled into a slower stride and concentrated on the deep breaths, I was good. Hell, I climbed a freakin’ hay bale in the middle of bumdoo Kansas. I can run in Denver.
Now I’m engaging in my favorite activity. Writing in a hippie-fied coffee shop amongst the locals. Who, by the way, love their dogs and their tattoos.