I run in the late afternoon.
I can usually tell the way the run is going to go by how my socks feel when I pull them on. Everytime I start a run, it feels like I can count on my fingers the number of times I've gone running. I think that's because all those bygones are exactly that, and this one will hurt just like they all did.
I have to throw my cat across the living room and burst out the door to keep her from following me. And that's how my run begins. Throwing away agility, while I try to maintain dexterity. I start too fast. I think about how I'm starting too fast, I think about form, I think about what I should be thinking about, and then somewhere along that line of insecurity I settle in.
One of the better parts about the run is the 50 meters of eucalyptus trees before hidden beach. It makes me feel like I'm running a little bit more alone than I am. That's kinda nice. You can never get through hidden beach park without seeing a dog, and wishing you had a dog with you. And then I come crashing down to the beach.
The dry sand softens my footsteps and I slow way down. Just have to get to the shoreline. Last week the sand was a bit cushier than normal. It's probably good for my joints, but I'm glad this week it was a bit more firm.
At this time of the day the sun is right in my face, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Sometimes the wind is blowing right in your kisser too. That's always great. I run alongside the water, and sort of scoot out of the way when it draws closer. It's funny because when I fatigue I get worse and worse at judging how far the water will come. People on the beach do beachey things, and I pass by. The humidity from the ocean makes the sweat on my face stay, and the salt burns the skin just a tad. I always shoot a glance to the water before turning towards Rio Del Mar.
And then there's the hill. The sun is on my back now, and my legs which used to feel like sharp springs now feel like dull, rusty springs you'd find in a junkyard. They're still springs though, and warm. I think about stopping and walking, but that won't happen. I don't remember the last time I did, but I can imagine someday I'll go for a run, and just stop. I won't even be that tired, at least not more so than I have been thousands of times before. But I'll just stop, and that will be it.
When the hill is done, it's nice at the top. It'd be nicer if you didn't have to dodge cars, due to lack of sidewalk. But really it's over once I hit the top. On the way down into Sumner and the shade, I might as well be riding in a car with the ac on. The road winds, and I kick, even though I should have kicked 400 meters ago. And then it's done. I'm at the mailbox again, and I notice how dirty my car is. My brother just washed his truck again. I pant while walking around the yard, and then I stumble while taking my shoes off at the door.
And for you picture buffs!
My mom and my auntie Aida (in pink) con watered down mai tai's.
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