Forget Hotlanta or Phatlanta. Our friends and some of our family live in Hillanta...at least from the perspective of a runner. I lived in Atlanta for 4 years and really learned to run well there. But it's been a long time since I tackled the hills of Dunwoody and never while under the 165 bpm heart limit. I went for a run this afternoon with by Brother In Law, Steven.
I've known Steven since the 5th grade. And, if you're paying attention, you'll realize that I must have also known Rachel that long since she's his sister. In spite of that, she married me anyway.
Steven and I have always competed with each other. Video games, running, various sports....even resting heart rates. In fact, while in the ED during my heart attack, my resting heart rate got down to 46 bpm. I took a picture of the monitor reading and emailed it to him. I figure I pretty much have that competition wrapped up. Now we compete over running accomplishments, cholesterol levels and who has more hair. (I think I still win those 3, though he is training for his first marathon now.)
Anyway, he and I set out for a run and I worried that I would slow him down. A limited heart rate does not mix well with hills. However, the only thing that actually slowed me down was the spicy salsa we had at lunch about 2 1/2 hours before. The more I ran, the more my stomach hurt. My heart rate never had a chance to max out. In the end, we ran 5.6 in just 10:00 min averages. Mental note...allow more time between running and eating Moe's for lunch.