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Destination Run: The Golden Gate Bridge

Waking up in San Francisco this morning proved to be the best way to tackle my 12 mile scheduled training run. The weather was clear, sunny, warm, zero wind, and zero fog. A perfect San Francisco day. I took off in the general direction of the bridge from near Fisherman's Wharf. After a few hills, and working my way to higher ground, this was my first glimpse of the bridge...the teeny tiny red thing out there.

It was at this point, lots of other runners started appearing, seemingly headed somewhere, so I followed. The land opened up, I was closer to the water, and apparently on the right path.

A paved path ran right along a narrow beach where TONS of people were out with their dogs, running, romping, frolicking in the sand and the water.
Staying on this path, the bridge was getting larger and larger in front of me. I ended up directly underneath the bridge, in a parking lot at Fort Point, at a dead end. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot to survey the scene, wondering how to get UP to the bridge, but others kept running right on by me. I watched a woman run to the fence, touch something with both hands, and then turn right around and keep running.
Others came up and repeated the same routine. So....I did it too, hoping I wasn't breaking some sort of runner's code by touching these hands without knowing what it means. Later, THIS is what I discovered about the meaning behind the sign, and was proud to have partaken in the tradition.

I backtracked a while, trying to find another route, when I discovered a super secret staircase (that was clearly marked with a sign) that led up.
I loved these stairs and was very careful to dodge the many banana slugs hanging out on them.
At the top, after missing one more turn and ending up underneath the bridge one more time (the sound of the cars driving above me was a little frightening, I finally reached the starting point to crossing the bridge. I took a deep breath and started out across.
Luckily, still, no wind whatsoever. Luckily, because that railing wasn't all that high. I had a few moments of panic, mostly when I looked down at the water or when I stopped to take a picture and could feel the vibrations and rumbles from the passing cars. Looking out, however, was breathtaking.

After crossing county lines and touching solid ground, my journey was complete, so I turned around and ran back to San Francisco.
After two hours, I made it back to the hotel exhausted. My reward was clam chowder and grilled salmon. I might have to do this every weekend.

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