The heat wave is about the break, but last Sunday it was HOT in LA. It seemed wise to escape. So I got up at 4:30 and hit the road to arrive in Mt. Baldy Village before 7 a.m. and meet the team.
I’d run up Baldy last year with Andy, a grueling ordeal. This time we began at a different point. The climb was much steeper. But man, was it worth it. I ran when I could, walked most of the way, lost team mates, lost the trail, kept going up. I passed several parts of a crashed airplane; it turns out it went down in 1949.
On top is was so cool my hands went cold. I think it was in the 50s as LA baked in the upper 90s. Living in LA I’d sort of forgotten I have Raynaud’s disease. But on top my hands got white/yellow-ish as I lost all feeling.
After the photo shoot Andy II (another speedy guy named Andy on Baldy!) and I flew down. We even hit some sub 6:30 miles during the perfect 6-mile descent. Great Sunday.