The Infamous Peaks Of Tallahassee

Most people know about Mt. Everest and its accompanying smaller, though bigger than most have ever seen, mountain peaks. Most Americans are familiar with the Rocky Mountains and the highs and lows of the rocky terrains of the Grand Canyon. But I doubt that many people, including most Floridians, are even slightly aware of the deceptively long and far-ranging hills that await the unaware runner who sets off on the roads of the sunshine state's capital for, what he/she thinks will be a nice casual weekend run.

And, over this past Christmas break, it was I who became all-too familiar with the hilly terrain that defines Tallahassee.

Arriving in Seminole country for our annual visit to my dopeness pregnant wife CVSW's parents home, I was excited to finally start hitting the pavement again after suffering from the frigid weather of New York City which, for far too long, had forced me to stay inside for my tri-daily runs.

Waking up before the roosters began chirping, I leaned over to give CVSW a good morning smooch before setting off for my run. Finding empty air rather than my betrothed's cheek, I quickly remembered that we were staying in her childhood bedroom which, having undergone no changes since CVSW was a wee little tot, came complete with two miniature twin beds which prevented man and wife from sleeping on the same mattress. Blowing her a kiss instead, I quickly got dressed in my tshirt and shorts and set out for my first of a slew of outdoor runs Tallahassee stylez!

Stepping outside, I immediately began seeing smoke emanating from somewhere on my person and feared that I had been set on fire. Despite following the lyrics of a rap song that I had heard in the past and stopping, dropping and rolling, the smoke was still rising. As I looked around, I finally realized that it wasn't smoke at all but simply the effect that the 40 degree weather was having on my breathing. I was completely unprepared for the near-Arctic conditions that had befallen Florida and realized that it would be yet another obstacle I would have to overcome.

But more than the twin beds and more than the frigid temperatures, it was the hilly terrain that rendered my legs as sore as the waistline of a fat person is big. At every street turn, there were be a long, gradual incline waiting for me and, unless I wanted to simply run back and forth on one block a hundred times, I would be forced to run numerous inclines if I had any hope of traversing more than 2 miles. Having run exclusively on a treadmill for the past 3 months as the temperatures in New York began to fall, my legs had forgotten the strain that comes from hill running. No sooner had I begun my first ascent when I began huffing and puffing as though I were trying to blow the hill down.

But the agony didn't stop when I reached the first summit. You see, dear readers, almost as an ode to one of the famous laws of physics arguing that what comes up, must come down, the roads of Tallahassee seemingly are barren of any plateaus. Reaching the top of the hills, I quickly was forced to control my legs for the equally steep declines leaving my body very little time to recover from the effort just expended.

35 minutes later, having run for approximately 4 miles, I had run up-and-down 7 hills. As I entered my in-laws abode, completely out-of-breath with cheeks red like a finished book, I, like many-a mountain climber, was begging my mother-in-law for a bottle of oxygen, a bottle of water and a mattress big enough to fit my lady and myself.

After our 5 day vacation, as I was hobbling to our gate at the airport, I was remarkably happy for the airplane seat that awaited me. At least for the coming 35,000 foot ascent we were about to make, I would not be running!