“This is where people bring their out of town friends when it’s too cloudy for the beach.” The view from the top of Mt Soledad is one that is meant to be enjoyed by out of town friends and locals alike. The hardest part is running there and even more so, running back down from the mountain.
I went running with an ex-teammate, current friend, from my new place in Pacific Beach up to the Cross (that is still there). The run up to the mountain was a tough one, but an enjoyable one that might become a regular run for me. There were a few things that I had to keep in mind running with Dennis that would keep the stereotypes out of his head and the jokes from flying about after the run. It is kind of like when a girl plays basketball with the guys, she has to learn to catch the ball and not duck from it, run around the court instead of standing under the basket, and most importantly she has to make a basket when completely open (this does allow for two handed throws and granny shots). Likewise in running, the girl has to learn to not talk the entire run and she has to push on hills and not stop to walk when she gets a side stitch… more about this later.
We started up the hill and kept a good pace. The first couple of minutes I tried to chat a little bit, asking what he did the previous night, etc… and quickly shut the hell up when I remembered all of the stereotype jokes that were told about running with girls from back in the college days. So we went up the hill, steady pace. I weakened a little bit when we passed the location that I thought was the Cross. After making it up the hill to the top of Soledad, I immediately took to the view and swallowed my pride of being a girl and asked to walk around the hill to take in the view (of course I got the stereotypical male sigh that screams “oh, girls…” with rolling eyes). Anyone who is anyone that lives or has stepped foot in San Diego should at one point in their lives take in the view from the mountain. If you can’t run there, driving is acceptable. There are many views of every part of San Diego to enjoy. Dennis and I took the lap, enjoyed the view, and started down the hill again….
… cue side stitch.
In a nutshell, it was much more painful to run down the hill than up it. Whether I changed my stride, was breathing irregularly from the stop and go, or couldn’t control my breathing cause I couldn’t talk, my side cramped up so tightly that I began running as if I had a monkey on my back (in high school it would have been known as a bear). Somehow I made it down the hill and got to enjoy the aftermath of a great run.
