I found my thrill...

Back in high school, it was a place to drive to with your date. It wasn't a make-out spot - no place to park except smack-dab in front of a home -- but more of a scenic venture uphill that, once at the top, provided an incredible view of West Grand Traverse Bay and the city lights below.

It's still a location we'll drive to now and again with the kids, especially around the holidays to see Christmas decorations, but Wayne Hill in Traverse City holds a new and different meaning nowadays: an excruciatingly steep stretch of road I'm determined to conquer in the weeks leading up to the Bayshore Marathon. Which is, scarily enough, fast-approaching. Hello, less than three months away to race day.

So, Wayne Hill. It's a gorgeous area on the west side of the city, a looped neighborhood of maybe three dozen or so homes, some of which have amazing panoramic views given the location's high elevation overlooking the Bay and city stretching eastward. I remember when a grade school friend moved from the lower-lying east side to Wayne Hill in junior high, and our group of friends all thought, "Wow, her family has arrived!"

In recent years I've run not even half-way up Wayne Hill. It was part of my running group's regular route, but we always took a sharp right onto a trail before the road turned too steep. As I train for the longest race I've ever attempted, I got the crazy idea that maybe I should Just. Keep. Going. and let this hill know I mean business. Hill work supposedly helps your endurance, right? I don't know the specifics of this; all I know is running up hills is super hard and so I figure there must be some payback for the ridiculous amount of effort that goes into running at an incline.

So the other day, feeling particularly ambitious and deliriously happy about the sunshine finally making an appearance in northern Michigan, I kept right on going up Wayne Hill.

With help from 90s music blaring on my iPod (thank you, Rob Base"It Takes Two"), I got....not quite there.

This is a big, big hill. What was I thinking?

Strong as I felt at the bottom, three-quarters of the way up, I was toast. Lungs and legs were burning, the thumping, normally keep-me-going music wasn't cutting it. I was done. So I stopped and walked, completely out of breath.

That's when I noticed a man getting out of his car in a driveway just ahead of me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he was clearly looking at me and his mouth was moving. I removed my iPod earphones.

"Wow, just watching you run up this hill makes me tired! I can hardly walk it. Great job! Keep it up!" Then he waved before going inside his home.

Amazing how a simple comment from a stranger can make you feel pretty awesome. And maybe a tad crazy. Who does run Wayne Hill anyway?

This is not the part where the corny music is cued and I suddenly experienced an infusion of strength to keep going, to victoriously go on to reach the top of the summit. I still kept walking, huffing and puffing each step. I did manage a weak wave and smile in the man's direction.

But the top wasn't so far off, and once there, I was reminded of the spectacular view - made even more beautiful by the sparkling ice and snow covering the water below. I stood there for a few moments, taking it in ... and catching my breath.

Next time, I think, it won't be so bad. And there's always the view.