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Labor Day, I was slammed with the realization that my walkable 24-Hr. Fitness would be closing at the end of the month for massive remodeling.  I could use the 24-Hr. Fitnesseses in the area, but those are all reachable by car.  And I’m currently in a bad relationship with my car, factoring in the hassle of driving through traffic, bad drivers, bad tires, bad parking and parking costs.  Faced with an entire holiday season of consuming henious amounts of pumpkin, gingerbread and eggnog, PLUS having no easily accessible gym, I steeled myself to exercise outdoors.

Chris Hardwick, of Web Soup, told WIRED Magazine that his therapist urged him to embrace the outdoors as much as possible.  As a writer and Man-of-the-Business, Hardwick did himself a disservice by “relaxing” with watching a movie or TV show, even listening to music.  They are artistic endeavors, she explained, and as an artistic person our minds are never fully at rest when we are taking in entertainment.  There’s 2% of our brains that are still working.

So, with that in mind, I packed up my dog Marty and headed to Runyon Canyon!

Runyon Canyon is in what is called the Hollywood Hills, at the corner between Hollywood Blvd and Gardner Ave.  Walking there from my place is half an hour, and then there is the ten-minute steep climb up the hill to the canyon, where you are met by the gate pictured at right.

It’s a great run, populated with life but not over-crowded.  And Marty loves it because there’s lots of playmates there.

I could tell as soon as I got to stretching that Marty is an inside dog.  He loves his walks and the frolicking in the grass and whatnot, but I may have thrown him into the deep end of the pool right away on this one.

There are two water stations for dogs at the beginning and at the end of the mountain climb.  Marty lunged at the beginning water bowl instantaneously.

After he cleaned out the bowl (and took in a bit of that pond-water), we were allowed to continue up the Medium Trail.  The Easy Trail is through a shaded gulch that leads to a forest.  The Hard Trail isn’t a trail at all, really.  Just kind of the mountain.  The Medium trail is the most recommended and most used.  It’s long, but the steep is gradual, and the reward at the end of the Trail is a magnificent view of all of Los Angeles’ burroughs: The Valley, Griffith Observatory, Downtown, Hollywood, Century City, Santa Monica, The Pacific.

This is not the view at its highest.  Marty and I never made it to the top.  You see, Labor Day was unChristly hot, and I went at high noon.  Marty kept ducking into the shade when he could, his tongue lagging out and cocked to one side (what I know now is Stage 2 of Marty Needs Water).  And I myself (forgetting to bring water for me), decided that this should be today’s furthest point:

Marty and I took our water-deprived, book-reading sorry sacks and trampled (rolled) back down the hill to the exit, where we treated ourselves to the Honor System Cart.

Everything’s a dollar, and it works on the Honor System, which I dutifully upheld.  I then lagged behind just out of sight to catch a glimpse of who would take-and-run.  The only one who did: a trendy, way-too-tan-and-skinny Mom with a baby stroller.  Which just confirms my belief that most women become mothers so they can be bitches in public.