Sentimental pain

For reasons that defy logic and I can't begin to explain, I decided to run the East Hill Loop this evening after work.

The East Hill Loop was the staple run of the Wausau Hill Runners, a dedicated group of harriers that consisted of three Wausau Daily Herald staffers, Dave, Kyle and Me. We would attempt to meet Wednesday mornings before work at the Y. From there we would run up winding city streets that climb the hill on the East Side of Wausau.

For those not familiar with our little slice of paradise in central Wisconsin, the hill is steep climb out of the Wisconsin River Valley. It's not the Rockies of Colorado or the Palisades of NYC, but it is a steep pitch, maybe three quarters of a mile long.

Dave picked the run because he liked pain. So he would look for running routes that featured the best and longest hills. At first I hated him for this, but then, I too, grew to love the hills. My resurgence as a runner began on that hill, what, five years ago now?

Today I ran the four mile route in 36 minutes and 11 seconds. Since I can barely remember my times from the Hillrunners era, I'm not sure this is a personal record, but I think it is.

Dave, do you read this? Let me know.

Dave marked all the routes, found out their distance and kept track of all our times. He wore this old-school LCD stopwatch around his neck, thinking that it made him some kind of Bill Bowerman.

Of course Dave and Kyle kicked my ass up and down that hill. But I still loved it, and I missed them as I felt that clawing feeling in my lungs as I plodded toward the top of the hill.

And I especially missed sitting in a booth at The Mint after our runs, swilling coffee and gulping down the best corned beef hash in the world while solving the problems of the world, the city and the newspaper for which we worked.