Runner's High. Literally. In the mountains.

I'm going to be straight-up honest with you. The following post will be completely devoted to the love affair I had with my run yesterday.

It has been unseasonably cold this last week or so, and the last thing I wanted to do was drag myself out of my freezing room to go move my body around in the even colder street below. Grooossssss. On days like these, my runs usually start with a big, long sigh. You know it well - it's the "heeeere we go" sigh. The same one your dad makes when he gets your tuition bill, for all you college kiddos.

The day before, I discovered an entirely new path above our high-in-the-sky neighborhood (SIDE STORY: remember that one post where I ranted a little about Arangoiti and about how it must mean big-ass hill in Euskera? Well guess what. I found out that, in all seriousness, Arangoiti is Euskera for "neighborhood on a mountain." Awesome.) Basically, if you keep on trekking up the hill, there's a road that runs along the top of the ridge. I didn't get too far on it, so it was time to explore more.

About a mile down the road, I recognized a familiar silhouette making its way toward me. Here I am, in the middle of this mountain road with minimal traffic, and my host dad is making toward me in the morning fog. Whaaaat?! (By the way, Jose Luis is a badass. Seriously. The other day he was telling me about the time he almost died in the mountains. His climbing partner was knocked unconscious, and Jose Luis had to find a way to climb up to the ledge - he had fallen and was hanging 40 meters below by a 9mm-thick rope. Bad. Ass.)

Aaanyway, we stopped and chatted in the street for a while. He was on a morning walk (of several miles) and started spewing out directions to where I could find a great place to run. I can handle directions, but directions in Spanish - not so easy. And these weren't your average "turn left at the next light" directions. Oooh no. Lots of things like "second fork in the road" and "800 meters past the first bridge you see" and "look for a small restaurant on the right" and "do the hokie pokie and turn yourself about"...things of that nature. My head was spinning a little. I needed a map!

I should also mention that before any of this, he lectured me about what side of the street was safer to run on. He also loves to fish, was big on running, and isn't very good with computers. Yes, dad. You two would get along very well.

So Jose Luis sent me on my way as I set out on a mission to prove to my host father that I am not an incompetent American. I made my way through the countryside praying that I didn't get lost in the mountains of Bilbao, warming up little by little as I continued on - and then suddenly, I was there.

Jose Luis wasn't kidding. This place was awesome. It was a kind of forest preserve, with acres and acres of paths winding throughout the mountainside. All the cars and buildings melted away behind me, and all the sudden I really felt like I was in the mountains and not in a city. I didn't realize just how much altitude I had racked up in the 4 miles it took me to find this place - it was snowing here. Surrounded by hills carved with trails, giant pine trees and bundled hikers who crossed my path, I felt like I was a million miles away from Bilbao.

But there it was in the distance, itty-bitty and far in the distance, as though I was looking at a tiny model of a city through a snowglobe. The only hint of civilization was the muted sound of the highway far, far below. I just stood and admired where I was, panting visible exhalations in the chilly air. I ran hard, felt great, found the damn place, and now I was completely enthralled by my surroundings. THIS is why I run.

I didn't want to turn around, but had to keep in mind that I was only at the halfway point. It made it a little easy to turn back because I couldn't wait to tell my host dad that I found it - definite bonding points. On the way home, as I made my way back onto the main road, I broke the golden rule of not smiling and proceeded to freak out all the passersby that I encountered. Sorry guys, I thought. Today you will have to deal with my American tendency to display how content I am.

It was an event worthy of breaking the social norm.



ps. Dad, rest assured. I don't really think you're that bad at computers.