So I just went for my first 9,000 ft. run. It was a cloudy 20˚, so nothing out of the ordinary temperature-wise after nine years in Maine, and there is a 2.29 mile loop right out my front door. But the altitude. My goodness. Either I am way more out of shape than I should be, or there is zero oxygen up here. Running on flat ground is like trucking up a hill at sea level, and running uphill…well, let’s just say I came way closer to throwing up than I ever have going SO SLOWLY. It’s all you can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, breathe, and not pass out.
But I made it! Maybe next time it’ll be easier. If there is a next time.