On Mornings and High Altitude

by spaghettipirate

Mexico city is a city in the clouds. Sitting in at  7,316 ft or 2,250 meters above sea level, the thin air is definitely something that takes getting used to. It also gets cold here at night. Not the sort of cold where below freezing happens, but the sort of cold that allows you to see your breath and feel the ice pricking at your lungs with every raspy inhalation. I’ve always been a morning person, and waking up as the first light breaks the day has always been one of my great pleasures in life.

New year – new me. Or so I keep telling mself. But with the lake some five minues walking from the house, I lace up my sneakers and go for my morning run. (Trust me, sometimes there is serious internal debate about leaving a warm bed for sore muscles and shortness of breath. I’m 3/3 at the time of writig, so I guess I’m doing well.) Or scuttle, as both the altitude and my being out of shape make it difficult to keep the tempo up the entire time. I remain undaunted; perhaps this will be the year I sign up for that half-marathon after all.

My aunt got a serious case of conjunctivitis, and so we went to the opthamologist yesterday for an examination and a prescription list two pages long. It’s been quite the adventure let me tell you, about wiping down all the doorknobs with Lysol in a hopefully not vain effort to prevent the rest of us from catching the eye gunk.

First weekend here, and later today we have a rendezvous with some of my aunt’s friends for a dinner gathering and much chattings. More updates to come; stay tuned!

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