At lunch time I found myself watching the okole of Death receding into the distance up Tantalus till he turned a corner and was gone. My head felt like it was going to burst along the pattern of vents in my helmet, I couldn’t get a breathe in, my legs were burning and it was bloody hot. Other then that, it was all good. I was dressed in my chicken slaughter shorts and orange t-shirt, which looked pretty ugly, I have to say. At least I had black gloves on.
I had agreed to a Tantalus ride. Partially because I’m trying to get back in cardio shape, and partially because it’s a compromise. Death has been trying to get me to go trail running with him. Now…that’s not something outside the realm of ol’Oni experimenting with, nope. However, when your guide into running trails is an absolute animal, well, that changes things. Let’s just say he likes to suffer a lot more then I do and leave it at that.
The idea of running from my office to Tantalus, then running Tantalus, then running back to work just didn’t work for me ( I wonder why). So we decided to go for a ride.
Death graciously offered to let me wheel suck up the hill, but that required more energy then I currently posses, so I told Death to take off and I’ll see him again (probably as he was leaving the gym, all showered/shaved and I’m just getting back). What he did was ride up to the top, then turn around, find me, then rode with me back to the top.
Did I mention my head thought it was going to explode? Wow. It was hot. At somepoint everything felt better (as it usually does) and Death rejoined me. We made it to the top and the blazed down the Manoa side, enjoying the view and the new road.
Back to work and I’m sitting here, tired and slightly out of it.
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