El Primero

I feel the grooves of the rock in my right hand and they become comfortingly familiar. It´s curves conform to my hand nicely; it almost seems like it was made for me. Like any insurance, I hope not to have to resort to using it. Still, here it´s a bit like having flood insurance in New Orleans - not a half bad idea. It´s the perfect size too: small enough that it doesn´t weigh me down while I run, but big enough to deter any angry, territorial dogs I may encounter.

As I head North away from the main drag away from the center of Huaraz, my breathing becomes much heavier. I´m amazed at how strongly the altitude is affecting me here, given that I´ve just spent the last days hiking through a range over 3000 ft higher. Still 10,000 ft is nothing to shake a stick at, and the hill makes my heart thunder and my breath rapid.

It´s my first run since I left for Peru after the Boston Half Marathon and other than the altitude, I feeling surprisingly decent. Generally I find that these long breaks from running will leave me feeling awkward when I head out again, but today I feel fine mechanically.

I run from my hostel on the edge of the city up towards the city center. I get a lot of chuckles and whistles as the locals get a kick out of seeing a gringo running around for no reason. I don´t mind the laughs; it´s nice to provide entertainment for la gente. From the crowded plaza, I run up towards the other edge of the city. I come to a major thoroughfare and then the pavement ends and I´m running up a rocky, dirt road.

The concrete buildings and tourism stores have disappeared and now I´m running through a rural residential neighborhood. The buildings are made of mud and clay with shingled tin roofs held on only by rocks. I run for a mile or so up into the hills, carefully eyeing the street dogs sitting in front of many of the houses. It´s here that I find my rock and it gives me a sense of security.

Finally, the road seems to end and I turn around. I retrace my steps down the mountain side and come back to the Panamericana. Crossing the highway, I reenter modern civilization; the roads are paved and the houses have glass windows. From here it´s mostly downhill through the city and back to my hostel. I´m feeling fine now that the big hills are out of the way and cruise back in.

It´s been about 50 minutes and I have no idea how fast I´ve been running. But today, I don´t really care. It´s the first run back. I´m glad just to be moving.