Before we get into this, let me say that it's under one month til we need to have our money raised, and we need some serious support! Here's the link to our fundraising page; we're edging into desperation and every little bit counts! And if you're in Finland and want to donate but don't want to have credit card charges, let me know and I'll be more than happy to take cash and do the conversion myself.
Hills are the worst, amiright? If you're in Chicago area and reading this, you may not be familiar with the word. I know they're rare and elusive, but they exist. I promise. Dictionary.com defines a hill as "a natural elevation of the earth's surface, smaller than a mountain." I define a hill as the worst natural structure ever. Running up them makes me feel like I'm one second from a heart attack. Running down them makes me feel like I am absolutely definitely going to trip and fall and smash my gorgeous face. Forget what they do to my running form and posture, that's a whole other nightmare.
I have some personal history with hills. I realize that's not a normal thing to say; I realize that it takes a frightening level of self-absorption to think that a geographical structure is somehow intentionally impacting your life. But it's just true, ok?? I worked at a summer camp for years and it had what was simply called "the big hill" which was the only real way to get from one half of the camp to the other. The cardinal rule at this camp was that you could in no way, shape, or form EVER run down the big hill. But you were certainly allowed to run up it!! One of my "favorite" games to play with complaining campers was called Run and Yell. It involved taking a huge breath and then running as far as you could up the hill while yelling. When you ran out of that one breath you had to stop running and see who could get the furthest. Now, as discussed in previous posts, I am not a gifted athlete in any way, so I have to celebrate even the lamest sports that I succeed at. And I was pretty good at Run and Yell. Although I have some suspicion that it was my yelling skill rather than my running skill that won me the game most times.
Then I moved to Finland for the first time. After living in the midwest where nothing is a hill, Finland felt like everything was a hill. My usual running route had one moderate hill in it and it took me the entire semester I was there to get used to it. Biking to university meant going up one longish hill. I complained every day about it.
When it comes to hills and running, my personal vendetta just gets worse. Training for the 2012 marathon, I knew that the Chicago Marathon route is about as flat as possible. But there's a hill at the very end -- I mean like in the last 200 meters -- and I dreaded that hill during the entire training process and the entire race leading up to it. I just hate hills. So much. Still, obviously I lived to complain about it, so was it really all that bad? YES. It was terrible.
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| See? Reeeeally flat. The "hill" at the end doesn't even register. |
Finally we come to this training season. I'm living in Finland again, where, as you may recall, everything is a hill. Until a month ago I lived in Tampere and had found a nice route for my long runs that only had a couple of moderate hills in it. I was more or less pleased with myself and my trial and error method of finding the perfect route -- Although if you consult my roommate, boyfriend, or anyone else who asked how training was going on the same day of a run, you would probably hear a different story (here's a hint of that story: "I just hate f***ing hills SO much!!! Why is everything a hill?!").* Then I moved to Helsinki at the beginning of August. I'm living on what is technically an island; there are a lot of those around the coast of Finland. And there is one main road running through this island, with a paved path long enough to logically do my long training runs on. Or rather long enough to lead to a bigger land mass on which I can logically do my training runs. The point is, I have essentially one option of where to start and end my long runs. And wouldn't you know it: it's hilariously hilly. The running gods are playing games with me and have made it so that in my final 2 months of training I have a 2 mile stretch at the beginning and end of every run that has significantly more elevation change in those 2 miles than in the entire 26 miles of the marathon I'm training for. Seriously?!? Why? What is the purpose of this?? All I ever hear about Finland (mostly from Finns) is that there are no mountains and that it's so flat and blah blah blah. It may be true that there are no real mountains, but what it lacks in a single vertical peak it makes up for in every other surface being somehow inclined! Get on my level, Finland. I don't need this crap.**
But then I think about how if I can do long training runs on this kind of terrain, then the pancake flat Chicago streets should be no problem. I might even see a slight increase in speed there. And the final 200 meters of the marathon? I'm going to laugh in its face. Maybe I'll play a bit of Run and Yell. So whatever, hills. Be wherever you want to be. I can take it.
*It seems like an appropriate time to thank those people who put up with my bitching about this whole thing. As is obvious by this entire post, complaining is my #1 coping mechanism. But the support and encouragement I've received -- even when I've just finished a long and repetitive rant about how much hills suck and why is it so windy and I just miss the Chicago lake path -- is incredible. Especially without my sister for PIC (partner in complaining) and motivation, these beautiful people have on many occasions been my reason for putting my shoes on and just effing doing it. I can be a real asshole and I appreciate the completely undeserved love I've been shown.
**And I apologize for anything mean I have said about Finland in this process. It's my favorite. But I have to have some drama in my life, which I think it knew that when it was forming its topography. And for that I, and my leg muscles, thank it.
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