Let us be clear on one point at the start: I am not a runner, I have never been a runner and I never will be a runner. Maybe thats three points. Oxygen deprivation is affecting my language. I woke to another cool, wet day in the Swiss Alps and inexplicably laced up my running shoes and headed out. Ive found that if I think about exercise, I dont do it so Ive trained myself not to think. Thats about the easiest thing Ive ever trained myself to do! It comes naturally. So I found myself standing outside the hotel in something between mist and drizzle wondering how I had gotten there. Due to the ridiculously early hour, no one was around so I figured the chance of embarrassment was low. Thats often a miscalculation on my part. I headed down the path. DOWN the path. What goes down must eventually, painfully go back up. Of course, I naturally run away from pain so I continued down for awhile. A couple molecules of oxygen finally reached my brain and reminded me that running down at the start was a very bad idea. I saw a steep upslope side trail so I turned and ran up for awhile, erroneously figuring I could get some height and then use the momentum of the downslope run to help push me back up to the hotel. That momentum thing kind of works with bikes, not so much with running. I reached a cattle grate at the top of the rise and turned back just in time to see a truly terrifying specter. A twenty something alpine lass was running up towards me, long legs smoothly powering her up while her ponytail bobbed happily. I Guten Morgened her and she Good Morninged me without even a hint of labored breathing. This was bad news. She would undoubtedly pass me very quickly after the turnaround. Embarrassment and I are not good friends so I thought of darting into the woods and hiding, making her think I had run far ahead and out of sight. The forest, however, was dark and foreboding and probably full of evil gnomes or, worse, Swiss bankers on the lam. I wisely but shortsightedly decided to simply sprint downhill and around the corner and hope to outrun the lass for a few meters. I headed back uphill huffing and puffing into town like the little engine that definitely couldnt. There I found blissfully level ground and cruised along for a few hundred meters before running into a gang of young Chinese women. Startled at the sight of me running (Editors note: Running in this context is abuse of the English language. Consider substituting sauntering), they chattered in Mandarin. I dont know much Mandarin but one phrase Ive heard enough to recognize in any dialect: Look at crazy white boy! This is often followed up by another phrase which I assume translates to Oh, but he so cute! but Ive never bothered to look it up. I Ni Haoed them and powered up the next hill (Editors note: Now seriously...) Eventually I felt the rush of my lungs expanding in the high mountain air. Such a great feeling! Unfortunately, I soon felt my heart expanding, which is not such a good thing. I turned back before the summit (yeah, about 4200 vertical feet from the summit) and headed back into town again. I passed a white wolfish looking dog out for his breakfast. He eyed my oxygen deprived pallor, spat in disgust and ran off in search of fresher meat. I soon came upon the Chinese women again but they had been been joined by a phalanx of comrades all maliciously pointing their cameras, phones and iPads at me. I sped up to impress them as virtual flashbulbs blinded me (perhaps it was oxygen deprivation again) just in time to come upon the lass of long legs and bobbing ponytail. She looked in pain, pain which was not dismissed in the least by seeing me gliding by with post photo smile still plastered stupidly on my face. Great day for a run! I shouted. She scowled in return, no translation necessary. As soon as she passed, I bent over double, the better to concentrate on keeping the contents of my stomach in my stomach. My enlarged heart beat louder than a yodeler while my lungs collapsed to the size of wee alpine flowers. As soon as I was able to tap a keyboard, I asked Google Why do I do this? The response took so long I thought the wifi had failed but eventually Google came back with zero results and an apology. We thought we knew everything but this question is unanswerable.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 19:43:20 +0000
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