Harder to Breathe...

This morning I woke up, put on my loose-fitting yoga pants and a t-shirt, grabbed my trusty pepper spray, and went on my first run in almost a month.  At 7,500 feet.  My run lasted twenty minutes and I was drenched in sweat by the end.  I figure the altitude training will be great, though.  When I get back to the states running will (hopefully) be a whole lot easier.

I'm really glad that I waited a while before running in my community.  I'm now well aware of where it is safe to run, and even which dogs to watch out for.  More importantly, I'm starting to recognize many of the people in the town, to whom I say good morning, good afternoon, and good evening countless times every day.  I even made a concerted effort, during my run, to say “buenos días" to each and every person I passed, no matter how out of breath I was.  I think this was the key to my successful - and uneventful - run.  I didn’t get any weird looks from anyone, and the older Mayan women, whom I had feared would give me dirty or disapproving looks, returned my “buenos días" with smiles on their faces.

The Peace Corps Volunteer I met on Monday told me about a super hilly (think mountains) 15K race in her town in September.  Hopefully I can train up for a race in Guatemala!