I dragged Blair out for a walk yesterday to scope out potential hills near our home where I might do hill work on days I don't feel like driving into Greensboro. There are plenty of hills near where I live. The key is finding hills:
- Where the chance of hillbillys driving by in pick-ups and yelling "Whoooooooo--babeeeee!" are minimal.
- In an area where people prefer to follow town ordinances and have their wild-eyed, growling, leaping dogs on a leash versus standing on their front porch and yelling at me, "S'okay. He don't bite hardly never."
- With low enough traffic that exhaust isn't an issue, but enough cars around so that if someone thought about doing something funny to the running girl, they'd think twice.
Distance is also an issue. There are short, fast hills around here that meet the above criteria but I'd also like to find a half-mile incline to run. We scouted out a few possibilities yesterday. Enough so that I have no excuse not to go out and get some hill work done.
All that being said, I am loath to get out and run by myself. I've got friends in GSO willing to meet for runs, which is great. But on the days I just need to get in a few miles, I always turn to the treadmill. Perhaps a belated New Years resolution is for me to run outside by myself at least once a week.
There is a blond-haired woman I see running around town all the time. "You should talk to her," said Blair. I agree, but how? I usually see her from a window inside my house and I have to wonder what she might think if suddenly a strange woman burst from a home and started chasing her up the street.
It might work. I could have Blair stand on the porch and yell after us, "S' alright. She don't bite hardly never."