Hills do not sing.

Well, five Mondays from now I hope I have finished the half-Marathon in Syracuse. But for now, I'm training and it's one of the hardest task I've undertaken.

I know, what doesn't kill us will only make us stronger.

Last week I was so proud because I had managed to run for 10 minutes without stopping. But then I agreed, in a moment of weakness, to jog/walk the 9 miles on the training schedule with Ann, my daughter-in-law, who is running, not jogging or walking, in the half-marathon also.
I also agreed, bless me soul and soles, to run in Pleasant View, where she lives, happily with my son and my beautiful grandchildren. Pleasant View is a pleasant place with lots of views because it is next to the mountains, or more accurately, in the foothills. I live in West Point, which is west of the mountains, close to the Great Salt Lake. The topography of the two areas are as different as night is to day.
My training the past several weeks has happened on relatively flat routes, with elevation changes no more than 30 feet  in one mile. I thought I was prepared. I thought I was Rocky. I was ready to take Ann on. Did I mention she is 20 years younger than me?
Saturday morning arrived early.
First mistake: I didn't get to bed Friday night until 12:10 a.m. which was technically, Saturday morning.
The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. I ate some breakfast, read my Book of Mormon and then noticed I was already late to get to Ann's house, which is 30 minutes away.
Once I got there, slightly before 7 a.m., we spent a few minutes doing some yoga stretches. I should have spent a good 20 minutes stretching, but my mind was racing with my Saturday schedule. I had laundry to do. Groceries to buy. A cake to bake for my oldest granddaughter. Sunday dinner stuff to get ready for the family. A house to clean for my special Sunday guests --- my children and grandchildren.
So second mistake: I was stressed out before I started stretching and running, which makes running not fun.
Then Ann and I headed out of her house, straight up the hill to the route, which was supposed to be flat.
The route, we later learned from my GPS MapMyFitness.com app on my phone (Did I mention I love, love, love my phone and its apps?) has an elevation change of almost 300 feet in the first 1.5 miles. My legs were dead at the half mile mark.
But I continued. I endured. I did not require oxygen, although I would have sucked up any that was offered. I walk/jogged the 9 miles on paved and gravel paths, with Ann say, "Good job! You're doing great!" (One more "great" and I had visions of grating her.) When we were done, I did not need a paramedic or my son, the nurse practioner. I needed a shower and liquids --- lots. I wanted a pillow and a bed, also, but that was not in the cards.
This morning as I hauled my whatever out of bed, every single muscle in my body and my legs protested. 
"Are you kidding?" they screamed as I pushed myself  to run 4 miles this morning. It took me 52 minutes, instead of 40 minutes, which I did last week.
I shall endure. I shall make it. 
But just in case I don't, have the really cute paramedics available, please.