The Calm.

I woke up expecting to hear rain. And I didn’t. Damn. We could have joined the 28 mile training ride in Griffith Park. Today was the day we were suppose to start training for the Aidsride. Six months away and we need to build to 100 miles.

11am and I had already failed. A perfect way to end 2016?

When in doubt. And there was doubt. Go on a short run.

My favorite short run is under the Expo rail to Cheviot Hills. I find a challenging hill and force myself to sprint up repeatedly until I feel like vomiting.

After one sprint, I felt like throwing up. So, I decided to put my body through the torture four more times. On the fifth sprint, I heard a police siren beat for two seconds.

Whoop. WHOOP.

First thought: WHAT DID I DO?

I look over my left shoulder to see a police car with two officers giving me a thumbs up.

I was on the right side of the tracks and I felt fear. Pure fear for just a moment. I was dressed the part. Spandex cropped pants. Long sleeve top. Ear buds. Low pony. Their intentions felt too similar to someone cat-calling. Would they have done the same for a man? Was it because I was sprinting? Would I have been ignored if I was lightly jogging like the other women do in that neighborhood?

I raised my left arm and inadvertently slowed down my pace. Funny enough. I was too startled to feel nausea.

I made it home before the rain.

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