Pier To Peak

A half marathon was in play this weekend. I did it with some friends. It was thirteen miles---which was not such a big deal. (And I didn't do it for time, but only for completion)...What was ridiculous about it was it had a four-thousand feet elevation gain. Pier to Peak means it began at sea level at the pier in Santa Barbara and then ratcheted up four-thousand feet above sea level through a couple of micro-climates...ending in pine forest thirteen miles and four hours later. Crazy stuff.

I cruised hard up until mile seven. At that point, I said to my party, "Save yourselves. I can't go that fast."

So, I finished the last six miles alone and kind of delirious. It really is extreme--to decide to haul your ass, nonstop, up a four-thousand foot mountain over thirteen miles. You start seeing the Infant of Prague, the Virgin Mother, maybe some aliens.

I held up pretty well. I was not affected by the extreme heat. I was annoyed by the small black flies that were coming at my face for moisture? Salt?

Plenty of water and designer energy bars kept me afloat.

It was the hardest physical thing I've ever done. I recommend such a thing. It's transcendental...at a biochemistry level, of course. It chases away all thought. It simply becomes about "move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move"-- which sounds dull but really isn't.

And the sense of accomplishment. Followed by huge cheeseburgers. It's so peaceful.