City Summits / Bernal

I haven't done this run for a while, and tonight's was a hap­py return. I con­sumed a lot of caf­feine at around 7pm, vio­lat­ing my only iron-clad self-med­icat­ing pol­i­cy: no caf­feine after 3pm. Ever. Or, almost ever. I was a gold­en god from 7pm on, and my run took advan­tage of this artif­i­cal self-esteem and turned it into an all-con­sum­ing delu­sion of ath­let­ic indomitabil­i­ty which became espe­cial­ly acute as I neared the top of BH. I wasn't even close to my PR of 28-some­thing, but I felt great and the run felt like an extra­or­di­nary suc­cess because what else mat­ters, real­ly? It was moon­less and misty, and the top of Bernal Heights was dark, dark. In fact, I couldn't see the trail at all, which didn't both­er me because I WAS A GOLDEN GOD. Plus, I was the only per­son up there, giv­ing me a real­ly good chance to belt out Ween's song "Piss up a rope" and "Jolene". So I raced up and down, got my heart rate up there, and arrived back home ready to solve all the world's prob­lems. Was it pos­si­ble to solve them while play­ing Grand Theft Auto? I guess we'll find out.