I ended up running alongside the motorway that runs from the town center out to the airport; it was only at the end of my second run that I realized that there was actually a nice lake I could have run around right next to the hotel.
It was interesting if not a little depressing. At the other end of the spectrum from the middle class granola eating Seattle town, one in every two restaurants was out of business succumbing, presumably, to the overwhelming pressure from the plethora of Denny's, Taco Bell and, of course, MacDonald's. What I found depressing was the quality of food that the locals had - somehow I doubted that their home cooking was any better.
At one point I passed a homeless person who was asleep, sitting on a wall with a blanket draped over his head. As I ran by a tool shouted "Boo!!" from the open window of a car.
I'll have to do the rest of my training without any heart rate reference. I particularly hate doing series like this because I don't know when to ease back a little nor can I have the satisfaction of knowing that I did them hard enough. It could have been worse, I suppose: there's never a good time for your Garmin to break but during a race would have been far worse.