This weekend I was away at my boss's condo in northern NH. Part of that time was spent with coworkers, part with JPow, and then the rest with BF (who drove up to meet me). You'd think the most consuming interactions that took place would have been with some or all of those people. But the relationship that got most of my attention this past weekend was my relationship with a two-mile stretch of hilly road.

The road runs from JPow's condo to the club house and comprises three long, steep hills. The first time I tried to run those hills I failed miserably and arrived at the club house locker room sweaty and defeated. That failure was the fuel that fed my obsession for the remaineder of the weekend. I thought I'd die if I left Campton without conquering those hills.

Of course I did, in the end. Conquer them I mean. But poor BF and JPow seemed a little perplexed by my unrelenting tunnel vision. I'm not sure if either of them understood why it was so necessary. I'm not sure I understand it either. But when I finally ran the route in its entirety, it felt like I'd actually done something.



Bob said...

I understand completely!...and it's easy to understand the desire to "beat" the hills. You knew you could and you willed yourself to do so. No one else has to understand why. "Congratulations on your victory" is all that's needed.

9:13 PM