Last night we decided to take on the big hill. My roommate and I put on our running shoes and sweats and headed off to the 22nd street steps. The hill climbs up to the stars at a frightening angle, stairs carved into the sidewalk to allow for pedestrian traverse. Cars must park side by side, nose to the curb. They look like they might just tumble over and roll into Church street.

We jogged up the hill (two blocks up, to the summit at Sanchez) four times. My heart was thumping, blood pounded in my ears. Fortunately the weather was grey and cool. After twenty or so minutes, we headed back home and finished off with some ab exercises and stretching.

I couldn’t help but notice that this energizing outdoor workout was free. I pay $21 a month to my gym for the permission to go there just four set days of the week. And since I moved, the gym is more inconvenient than ever. I also remembered that when I do manage to go to the gym, all I even do is 30 minutes of cardio on the elliptical, staring at the little tvs suspended from the ceiling. It’s not fun, kind of a drag. I could do everything there for free at home. My new neighborhood is even nicer to go running in.

So duh, thinking of cancelling the gym membership and going DIY. Those stairs kicked my ass.

Plus, Brian and I went to the park last week and worked on more ninja stuff, which was awesome. He is infallibly patient with me, and so good at explaining things. We practiced some roundhouse-type kicks and he encouraged me to really strike him (in the side), which is actually excellent for training because one needs to know how it feels to actually do the kick so one is prepared should they ever have to deploy it. And I know better what I am capable of.

We’re going to Seattle in a couple days. I look forward to REAL summer weather, trees two hundred feet tall, big fat crab legs, seeing my dad and his wife and their doggie, and crossing the Puget Sound on the ferry a few times. Ah. Home.