So, no sooner do I finish my latest navel-gazing than I look up across the terminal, and see my alter-ego – a 30 something with iPod earbuds and a PSP, hip t-shirt, and the 20 lbs of beer I’ve managed to keep off since this time last year.
I’m sure he’s a wonderful human, with a cooler job that me and for sure with cooler toys.
But there’s something wonderful to be said for slacks, belts (I put mine back on, BTW), buttons, mortgages, and kids waiting at the house.
So, I’m in the waiting area at the Philly airport with too long of a layover. What I thought was 50 minutes is closer to 2 hours. There are worse things in life, I expect.
It’s gradually sinking in that I’m getting too old to play the cool hipster. Plus, the whole closer to 20 years of time in the Navy than signing that first enlistment paper kind of hit today. The increasing amount of silver in my auburn locks. Mortgages. Kids. Over 10 years married to the same woman. A fondness for station wagons. Seeing fewer midnights. Realizing that I don’t have any games installed on my laptop, and that, in the last 6 months, I’ve used my PlayStation more frequently to do Pilates than to play games.
And, I chose a business trip over Fantasy Baseball draft.
But, the straw in the camel’s back is listening to the South by Southwest (SXSW) Showcasing Artists downloads for this year’s festival. (Remind me to post the torrents – if you’re interested, it’s close to 3 gigs of free, legal MP3s)
Why is this such a hard spot, you ask?
‘Cause I like almost every song I’ve heard since I started listening to it. Gen X is all grown up and holding music and technology festivals that are covered by NPR. Not cool NPR, like Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, but stodgy, pledge drive NPR like Morning Edition.
It’s not surprising – the Joshua Tree turns 20 this year (Pshew, next year, but still…), and the Simpsons have been around almost as long. The folks who were freshmen when I graduated high school all turn 30 this year. The last brothers I pledged are having their 10 year reunion this year.
Don’t misunderstand – I’m still pretty jazzed about Life, the Universe, and Everything. But, I think it’s about time to let go of the idea of myself as a youth.
On the plus side, with the exception of 22 year old me fresh out of Pensacola, I think that Billy-2006 could kick the butt of pretty much any version of me in the last 15 years, running at least.
The flight out of Norfolk is later tonight (ie, not late, in and of itself, but late in the evening, and I get into Providence around midnight). So I’m sitting here at the Abbey Brewery Resturant, waiting on service, and halfway wondering if I’m actually going to get anything to eat.
Turns out I do get something to eat from a waitress who is exceptionally inconvenienced by me. Or so it appears. Not that I mind – there’s time enough before the flight, and I’m looking out over the runway, watching the sky turn from pale to pink to rose to grey to Navy. And, it’s quiet in the waiting area. All that’s missing is free wifi, but I’ll get that in Philly.
Oh, yeah – running.
Wow, what a run this afternoon. The working group meeting broke up about 4 this afternoon. Not sure if a whole lot was accomplished – there’s a lot more folks involved with dollars and planning at the working group than with actual work. Which I suppose applies to me, too, thinking about it.
I’d packed for the trip with the best of intentions – all the running stuff and my kakhis, planning on recycling my civvies on both flights. Clean skivvies, so it’s not quite so gnasty as you might think. The initial plan was to wake up at 0500 and hit the road. But, the flight out of National was delayed, and I didn’t get to the Navy lodge until after 2300. Half an hour to wind down and realize the DSL line was down in the room, 15 minutes debating getting dressed again to trundle down to the lobby to see if I could get a new power adapter, and next thing you know it’s after midnight.
0500 arrived. I hit the snooze button, knowing I had a late flight, and expecting that the working group would be done early enough to run before heading to the airport. When I stepped outside to head to the meeting, I was greeted with a chill that I’d associate with the wind off of Naraganssett Bay, not the breeze off of Hampton Roads. And I’d left all the cold weather stuff up north…
Meeting wasn’t as bad as all that; and the gym on the Fleet Forces Command section of Norfolk has the finest locker room I’ve ever been in. Headed north out of the compound, and headed down the two-lane past the Marine Forces Command (MARFORCOM, all decked out in red and gold) buildings, and an elementary school.
About 15 minutes in, I cut across a disused baseball field, and ran past an obstacle course tucked in next to an access road, golf course, and highway. Turned left on the access road, and started running parallel to the highway. Painted on the access road were faded words: 1917 – Belleau Wood, 1942 – Corregidor and Bataan, 1944 – Iwo Jima (years are probably wrong, sorry). Overhead, a E-2 Hawkeye banked steeply, flared, and lined up on final.
The afternoon was beautiful, the run was perfect – 24 minutes out, 24 minutes back with some great fartlek running up random mounds on the side of the road and jumping off the top. Don’t have Gmaps Pedometer, so I’m not so sure how far the run was.
Oh, and it turns out that Candi (her real name), the waitress in the airport restaurant, was pleasant and gracious, and the crab cakes were indescribably good.
Off to Philly.
Technorati Tags: norfolk, rbf, running
UPDATE: The route was just over 5.5 miles.