|The Harlem Hills aren't quite this tall, but they are close. Source.|
The Harlem Hills are hell.
The Harlem Hills, so called by me due to their location in the Harlem section of Central Park, encompass the majority of the first 3 miles of my runs. Winding and ever-inclining, these beasties burn my calves and torture my quads.
Let's not even talk about what they do to my buttocks.
But once they are done, oh, once the path goes flat, or even - praise be! - declines, I am on top of the world!
I make it through the next 5.3 miles of my run by mentally repeating "You can do this, you can DO this! You beat those damn hills - you sure can finish this!" What I'm verbally repeating is "*gasp, gasp* I can't *gasp* breathe *gasp* ouch"
But it's all worth it.
Because no feeling is greater than going home and yelling "SUCKAAAAAA!" at Spencer, Mr.I-don't-think-you-will-wake-up-that-early.
Also, I hear the course for the Brooklyn Half is flat so huzzah for that!
**I find profanity, in moderation, both humorous and motivating.