Mt. Rubidoux

Today I ran up to Mt. Rubidoux, with the grandest intentions to continue to run up that great hill that overlooks the Inland Empire and Downtown Riverside.

 

And though my body had a visceral reaction to the incline that began somewhere between mile 6 and 7 of my lon-run goal, I enjoyed the occasional cool breezes and the site of families and friends making the trek toward the World Peace Bridge. As I made the climb toward the Cross that rests atop the paved hill, my body slowed from a jog to a heavy walk.  I forgave myself for my inability to push through the heaving of my own breath as I watched dogs on leashes with fashionably dressed-owners trek past me, tongues wagging, as if to commiserate with my pain.

 

As I circled back down, I picked up the pace, once more, though my body wanted nothing more than to stop moving.  And yet,

 

Unequivocally,

 

The highlight of the weekend was this run: My young daughter and husband behind or ahead of me at all times, waiting, pacing, him pushing the stroller that she sat so peacefully and comfortably in. 

 

We separated at various points as I diverted into different directions, seeking out the long stretches of bike trails that ran along the Santa Ana River and around Fairmount Lake.

 

The highlight was the fatigue: The irresponsible sunburn across my neck and back, the Push-Up ice-cream we treated Sayler with after the afternoon endeavor and the way it trickled down her angelic face and hands, the sticky sweetness adhering to her clothes and the creases in her smile well after the treat was consumed.

 

There was the soak in the tub once we made it back home, the faint headache that lingered into the evening from too many rays beating down through the afternoon jaunt and the insatiable appetite for something salty and/or sugar coated...or both.... why not?

 

The highlight was this run.