Every Saturday morning, I wake up at 4:30am. I drink some water, pack up my running vest, lace up my shoes, get in the car, and drive to the mountain to wait for the gate to open.
Pinnacle Peak is only a few miles north of my house in Scottsdale, Arizona. Half of the time, I drive the 11-minute ride in silence, just forgetting to put on the radio.
And every week, I’m thinking about one thing.
Break my record.