My feet hurt. For some unknown reason I felt like running yesterday, so I did. And now I realize how old and brittle I really am. I didn’t just run any little old trail. No, I decided to run a super steep, rocky, slippery little fire road that drops about 1200 feet from the parking lot to the coast. And back again. I ran this in my hiking boots, which are Hoka Tor Ultra’s, which are really made for this type adventure, but my feet are still killing me. This has nothing to do with the boots and everything to do with the fact I hadn’t run in four and a half years. Thank you Lyme Disease. But now Uncle Danno is firing again, so I thought “Why not?” Now I know why.
And yes, as I move up my legs it’s all sore. I’m going to have to call my licensed and bonded, full-time, on staff massage service and book something urgent. STAT! On a side note, got out here before sunrise and the only people I encountered were three community college, photography students looking for Sasquatch. Or maybe just a sunrise snap for IG? We also had the Santa Ana winds blowing which means it was 90 degrees and blowing a type of air that you would only wish on your worst enemy. It’s gross, and as I descended to the shoreline I descended through a thick smog bank that was rolled out over the ocean like the devil’s welcome mat.
I also did a bike ride, and the truck photo..well, that’s just truck porn. Build out continues. (Sean, I’m stopping after round three.) (I’m stopping.) (Totally stopping.)