Today I went into Denver to work, and decided to take a nice 3 mile jog around Wash Park at 5:30pm. About 3 weeks ago I was running 9 miles in Dallas, so 3 miles should be nothing, right? Well, apparently that whole altitude thing is no lie. I started out jogging slow but decided to pick up the pace in order to keep up with my fellow Wash Park joggers. It didn't take long for me to realize that this was not going to be my best run ever. After about 1/2 mile I felt like either 1. I was going to pass out or 2. my lungs and my ribs were going to switch places. I thought I would settle into the run, but I got to the 1 mile mark and I was just simply hurting. I decided to stop and do some pullups on a bar near where I stopped. After about 20 pullups and continuous coughing I decided to call the quits and walk back to my car. A 10 minute workout. Down. Broken. Defeated. I had officially gone from a young buck in decent shape to an overweight grandpa on his last leg. In a matter of 2 weeks...
On a positive note, the deer at the cabin perked me right back up! I pulled into the driveway, got out of my car, and was greeted by about 6 deer literally stampeding a few feet from me. The 5 pound poodle across the street somehow spooked them enough for them to sprint past their friendly human companion. I now see why they are not carnivores. Couldn't miss the photo op of having them pretty much right next to me. The pic on top is with the flash on, and the one on the bottom is with the flash off. I can now cross "hang with stampeding deer" off my bucket list.
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