Saturday, February 4, 2012

Getting High in Bothell

When winter blahs set in, I call up a friend and we go to the exotic suburb of Bothell to get high. Instead of hiding out behind the bowling alley or litter-strewn woods, competing with the teenagers, we ride our bikes up and down ridges and valleys. The only thing we put into our lungs is pure-ish, clean-ish air and oxygen. But the outcome from climbing all those long, lovely hills on our bicycles is comparable to any high you can get from purchasing some green medicine. How do I know? I don't know and I don't care; the point is to get to the top of the hill, enjoy the scenery and float back down, pumped full of endorphins, bliss and appreciation for my training buddy.

yes, I do have a big head

Then, just as we are feeling low, we come across another hill and it lifts us up and we are high once again, thanks to the hard-working glaciers that carved out this area on the northern end of Lake Washington.

Spring hill-training has begun!

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