Just spent 2 weeks in the mile high city. And we were warned. A number of times…

“It’s a mile high.” “The altitude is going to affect you.” “Here’s a can of oxygen.”

Seriously. A fan of the show gave every cast member a can of oxygen, in case you needed it at some point.

I tend to minimize these type of concerns. I think that one of the advantages of participating in regular aerobic activity is that your body can handle stress a little better. Plus I was in this part of the world a few years ago for a trail running workshop. I was the slowest person at the workshop, so whether I was affected by altitude while running at 8,000 – 10,000 ft, I wasn’t really sure. I was just trying to keep up. And it’s not like I am doing a lot of heavy lifting from a physical standpoint. I play an old man who lives in a nursing home. My challenge is trying to look as slow, unsteady and infirm as possible. That doesn’t exactly tax one’s cardiovascular conditioning. So if all I did here was the show, I didn’t anticipate any problems. And I was right about that, BTW. I returned my can of oxygen, unopened. I would have brought it with me, just for kicks and giggles, but TSA doesn’t look fondly on people trying to bring pressurized canisters on planes. It’s an “explosion” thing, I’m told.

However, I don’t just do shows while I’m on the road. I try to simulate having a real life while I’m touring. Part of my “keep Bob sane ” campaign. So, running. we were in town for Valentine’s day and there was a “Heartthrob 5K” race in town. So myself and another member of the company signed up. We’ve been doing that during the tour, finding races and signing up. Sometimes other folks join in, but usually it’s just she and I. So we meet up on 2/14, at the park where the race is being held. Got our race pack ( bib, pins, t-shirt, etc) got in the starting area, and off we go. And I am fine….

….for about a mile.

At about the mile mark, it felt like someone had punched me in the lungs. Not my chest. My freaking lungs. It felt like someone had reached down through my mouth, esophagus, past my vocal cords, and punched me directly in my lungs. I was breathing, but nothing was coming in . My body was like “breathe, dammit!” and I’m like, “I am breathing, just nothing’s coming in!” We had this little debate for about the next mile. My friend came up past me during this period, as she normally does. I start faster than her, but she is faster than me in general, so her passing me is becoming a cherished part of my running these races. As she is going by she asks, “how are you?”. My reply…”altitude”. She says “me too” and proceeds past me. Now you might be thinking “why did you go out so fast if you knew about the altitude?” 2 things. First, it’s kinda like the story of the scorpion and the frog, it’s in my nature. (If you don’t know that story, look it up. I don’t have time to educate you on folklore of the world). Second, I thought I DID go out slower than normal. But evidently, slower than normal was not quite slow enough. And another thing about altitude is that once you get behind, cardio-wise, it takes forever to catch back up. So it was mile 3 before I felt like a human being again. But, I got through it, got to the finish, got my medal, took the obligatory photo with my friend and moved on with life….

…until Monday.

I had heard on this , umm, experience that was located in Colorado Springs, just an hour away from Denver. It’s called the Manitou Incline. What that is, basically, is a really long flight of steps. 2768 steps, to be exact. You start at 6500 feet and finish at about 8500 feet. It’s about a mile. But it’s a mile straight up. I mean, straight the f@#%! up. And you’re starting over a 1000 feet higher than Denver. I gotta say, the view is really cool. Both the view up when you start and down when you finish. But between those 2?

Whoa.

I had told friends (who, by the way, were not tempted AT ALL to join me) that I was going in with the idea of 100 steps jogged – 100 steps walked, all the way up. My experience in the race on Saturday had tempered that ambition, but I still started with that idea in mind….for about 50 steps.

After that?

Head down, walking step by M-Fing step. There were places to stop and catch your breath. I did just that. There were 3 places where you could opt out and take a trail back down. I’d tell you that I considered it, but if you know me you know that would be a lie. With no one around who knew me, and nothing at stake, I would rather have died. Sounds dramatic, but it’s just the ridiculous truth. So I got there, all 2768 steps, and I know because there are marker all along the way , 100 steps, 500 steps, 1500 steps, all the way up to 2768. It was comforting that everybody else was gasping and stopping and looking around like “I can’t believe that other people are dumb enough to do this too”, and I took solace in that. But getting to the top was cool, as was the view. One of the things they talk about too much in the ads for the place is the trip back down. Either you walk back down the steep, uneven steps, which they don’t recommend, or you take the 5k trail back down. So I just treated in like a 5k trail run. Bonus cardio. Almost fell and busted my backside about a half dozen times, but fun in its own way.

So. Denver. A very cool, funky town. Lot’s of neat places to eat & shop downtown. Great audiences for the show. A great 2 weeks.

But that altitude.

Talk later,

Bob