This is not one of those I’m-still-breathing posts. It’s literal. I headed out at lunchtime to explore a new area of White Plains. A pre-run look at a map showed a number of nearby areas with trails. Though the weather has been such — the snow, not the cold — that I wouldn’t venture on any trails that I found, I figured it’d be interesting to head over by some of them.

So I aim for Hall Avenue (surely a postive omen of a name) and on my way passed Warren Street (surely another positive omen of a name). A not-so-positive omen came when I found that Hall Avenue was gone. How does a road disappear? Well it begins right by I-287 and crosses that highway before meandering on, and as part of a long-time construction project the bridge across 287, and the road on it, was no more, presumably to be re-built.

So I had to make a few extra turns and then I was on the meaty part of Hall Avenue. Happily enough. The road is remarkably quiet for being just outside of White Plains and there was a slight up and a slight down, but then a nasty up. A very nasty up. Get to the top, breathing heavily, and it flattens out. But suddenly before me is yet another hill of who-knows how long since the road turned. I just couldn’t do it. The better part of discretion had me take the only available escape route, which had its own short but steep up, and then a long downhill paralleling Hall, but more gradual.

And I finished the run. MAP

I pride myself as being a pretty good up-hill runner, and I don’t like the feeling of being beaten by a hill. So I checked out the elevation when I returned to my office, and now my mind-set that I’ll give her a better battle next time. It’s no tougher than Anderson Hill Road (which is 240 feet in under a mile), which I ran up (and more often road up) while in college.

I’ve gotten lazy, perhaps even frightened, about hills. It’s time to put that, literally, behind me. And, of course, by writing this it means I’m going to have to do it.