Run Like Hell

I live on a hill.  It's a pretty big hill.  There are 10 houses on either side of my street and the top of the hill is about 300 feet higher than the bottom of the hill.  I live in the 7th house up from the bottom, i.e. near the top.  The weather is different at the top than the bottom.  I'm serious!  The snow seems different.  We might have ice at the top and not at the bottom.

Anyway, that wasn't my point.  Every day I go down that hill to catch the bus on the bottom of it plus one block.  Sometimes I'll run down the hill.  If I leave a few minutes late, I'll run.  Don't want to miss the bus, that would be bad.  When I run down my hill I think of a friend of mine.  He was a big runner.  He ran in races all the time.  One time he told me that it's harder to run DOWN hill.  I said, "huh?  Why would it be harder to run DOWN hill?  I run down hill all the time.  It is easier."  He insisted it was harder to run down hill.  Every time I run down the hill at my house I think about Steve.

Steve died on September 11, 2001.  And it wasn't a coincidence.

But, I still disagree with him.