I live in San Francisco - a city known for its fit inhabitants, and for its enjoyment of the outdoors. As cities go, it's a pretty healthy place, I think we can all agree. And, even as SF inhabitants go, I'd like to think I'm a weekend athlete. I am, after all, biking across the country.
So perhaps you will understand what I mean when I say that Bend, OR makes me feel like a giant slob. I went to a running meeting today at a running store called Foot Zone. I knew I was in trouble when six guys in their late 20s/early 30s showed up, each of them a chiseled tower of running perfection. I asked the guy what the distance and pace would be and he said about 5-7 miles and "we start at about 8 minute miles but we often end up around 7". Now, I can run an 8 minute mile, so this encouraged me. But I forgot about the 3400 feet elevation. They dropped me faster than a hooker. I think I made it one mile. And this was the Wednesday lunch run!
In the shopping center that my friend Meg works at - sort of an industrial warehouse space - there is as follows: a yoga studio, a Pilates studio, a CrossFit studio, a martial arts dojo, a physical rehab clinic, a store specializing in tennis, and at least one or two others that I'm forgetting. Oh, yeah, a place that makes skateboards. In one block! There is nobody fat here. Honestly. I think they all got scared.
I'm really looking forward to the OCF. I took off my old bike chain (it needed to be replaced) and I turned it into jewelry. Check it out!
