Editor's Note: I'm here! I'm really here! I've taken a (much-needed) week off from blogging, but I am here and ready to go again.
I have about a million things to discuss, including the Indiana trip, the Bear as a future world-traveler (the kid travels better than I do...this is both encouraging and incredibly shaming), and what NOT to do in Junior League (read: practically everything I've done this week, which prompted a friend to call me "The Bridget Jones of Junior League." Thank you, thank you), but after my Facebook post yesterday about Hill Day, I thought that might be my first topic.
I wrote on my wall yesterday, "I love Hill Day. Even in the rain and the dark, I love Hill Day."
Hill Day. What is it? And why does Kim love it so much?
Several people thought I might be sarcastic, which is usually true about 90% of the time, but this time, I'm not. I really, really, really love running up hills at 6am in the morning. In the rain. And the dark. In fact, the darker, the better.
First, let me explain it. There's a group of about 30 (crazy) people that meet at this park in the morning. 6am to be exact. We pay to do this (I feel like this could be filed under "Crazy Sh*t Summerlin Folks Do") through a Boot Camp program. Each week day is different than the last, but on Tuesdays, everyone knows it's Hill Day. And because Vegas is strangely shaped, this park is no different. It's kind of like a giant basin with grass on the sides and some baseball diamonds on the inside.
So during Hill Day, we meet at the bottom of the basin by the baseball field, stand in a long line on the sidewalk, and run up and down the side of the basin as the coaches yell at us. We sprint up the hill, we run backwards, we high-knee up the hill...essentially every way you can think about running up a hill, we do it. There is something called "the superman," that involves putting your palms on the ground as far out in front of you that you can, and then jumping your feet towards your hands. Sometimes we superman up the hill. (I like to call this "the panda bear," since that is what I believe I resemble when I do this. The trainer once accused me of looking for bamboo, and he wasn't too far off base.) My favorite is when everyone is lined up at the bottom, and the trainer makes us sprint one at a time up the hill. By the time the last person goes, the first person should already be back in place and ready to go again.
See what I mean? Fun.
And this Tuesday, Hill Day took on a new meaning. I almost missed Hill Day, having told Brian to set the alarm for 5:45am. (I should have been out the door by 5:45am). But I scurried down the stairs to take my place in line, in the dark, clutching my giant Costco water bottle (Mmm, Smart Water) and realized I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It was dark - like, black-of-night-dark, since the sun is rising later and later. This was coupled with light drizzle that was falling, and after the first few sprints up the hill, I discovered we had tree branch roots to avoid as well. This had all the makings of a disaster.
But it wasn't, and it didn't. People were a little more careful due to the conditions, but there is something so...primal about running around before the sun rises. We were in the mud, the rain, and the dark. I could barely catch my breath and sweat poured down my forehead (and forehead wrinkle, likely deepening it). We eventually broke up into small groups to run sprints and laps, but man, it's kind of cool to have dirt stuck on your hands and mud smeared on your forehead before most the neighborhood has even woken up.
So that's why I love Hill Day. It's a crazy-hard work-out, it's dirty and messy, but it's a type of fun that most adults don't get to experience. We're all so prim and...clean most of the time. I really do look forward to Tuesday morning, despite my weekly anxiety on Monday nights ("What if I fall?" I lament to Brian. "I could break my ankle and then how would I take care of the Bear?" He usually just shakes his head and says something like, "...and we are PAYING for you to do this?") See? He doesn't get it. But I do.
And so do the rest of the those crazy Hill-Day-ers.
I'm off to pick the grass out of my shoes. 'Til next Tuesday!
I have about a million things to discuss, including the Indiana trip, the Bear as a future world-traveler (the kid travels better than I do...this is both encouraging and incredibly shaming), and what NOT to do in Junior League (read: practically everything I've done this week, which prompted a friend to call me "The Bridget Jones of Junior League." Thank you, thank you), but after my Facebook post yesterday about Hill Day, I thought that might be my first topic.
I wrote on my wall yesterday, "I love Hill Day. Even in the rain and the dark, I love Hill Day."
Hill Day. What is it? And why does Kim love it so much?
Several people thought I might be sarcastic, which is usually true about 90% of the time, but this time, I'm not. I really, really, really love running up hills at 6am in the morning. In the rain. And the dark. In fact, the darker, the better.
First, let me explain it. There's a group of about 30 (crazy) people that meet at this park in the morning. 6am to be exact. We pay to do this (I feel like this could be filed under "Crazy Sh*t Summerlin Folks Do") through a Boot Camp program. Each week day is different than the last, but on Tuesdays, everyone knows it's Hill Day. And because Vegas is strangely shaped, this park is no different. It's kind of like a giant basin with grass on the sides and some baseball diamonds on the inside.
So during Hill Day, we meet at the bottom of the basin by the baseball field, stand in a long line on the sidewalk, and run up and down the side of the basin as the coaches yell at us. We sprint up the hill, we run backwards, we high-knee up the hill...essentially every way you can think about running up a hill, we do it. There is something called "the superman," that involves putting your palms on the ground as far out in front of you that you can, and then jumping your feet towards your hands. Sometimes we superman up the hill. (I like to call this "the panda bear," since that is what I believe I resemble when I do this. The trainer once accused me of looking for bamboo, and he wasn't too far off base.) My favorite is when everyone is lined up at the bottom, and the trainer makes us sprint one at a time up the hill. By the time the last person goes, the first person should already be back in place and ready to go again.
See what I mean? Fun.
And this Tuesday, Hill Day took on a new meaning. I almost missed Hill Day, having told Brian to set the alarm for 5:45am. (I should have been out the door by 5:45am). But I scurried down the stairs to take my place in line, in the dark, clutching my giant Costco water bottle (Mmm, Smart Water) and realized I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It was dark - like, black-of-night-dark, since the sun is rising later and later. This was coupled with light drizzle that was falling, and after the first few sprints up the hill, I discovered we had tree branch roots to avoid as well. This had all the makings of a disaster.
But it wasn't, and it didn't. People were a little more careful due to the conditions, but there is something so...primal about running around before the sun rises. We were in the mud, the rain, and the dark. I could barely catch my breath and sweat poured down my forehead (and forehead wrinkle, likely deepening it). We eventually broke up into small groups to run sprints and laps, but man, it's kind of cool to have dirt stuck on your hands and mud smeared on your forehead before most the neighborhood has even woken up.
So that's why I love Hill Day. It's a crazy-hard work-out, it's dirty and messy, but it's a type of fun that most adults don't get to experience. We're all so prim and...clean most of the time. I really do look forward to Tuesday morning, despite my weekly anxiety on Monday nights ("What if I fall?" I lament to Brian. "I could break my ankle and then how would I take care of the Bear?" He usually just shakes his head and says something like, "...and we are PAYING for you to do this?") See? He doesn't get it. But I do.
And so do the rest of the those crazy Hill-Day-ers.
I'm off to pick the grass out of my shoes. 'Til next Tuesday!
RSS Feed