The Hills Are Alive...

The Hills are Alive... with the sound of Cyndi screaming. Ugh! For our 6-mile (yes, I said 6-mile)run on Saturday, someone thought it would be a good idea to map out a course with some seriously sadistic hills. I thought that my very first day was brutal, but Saturday totally topped that. There were big hills, little hills, rolling hills, and stairs (oh dear God, the stairs). One hill in my last 2 miles was the size of Mount Everest. As I was climbing the hill, I could have sworn that I was passed by a mountain goat. Turns out, it was just a laborador. They said that they are trying to prepare us for San Fran, and all I could think was, "What have I gotten myself into?". To top it all off they made us get up extra early to avoid as much of the heat as possible. So there I was at 6am, running up mountains, being passed by mountain goats, and screaming my head off. So Julie Andrews I'm not. But at least there was no poop involved. Thank you Imodium.