Long Run Thursday

Man – Last night was one of those nights where everything’s about as close to perfect as it could possibly be. I got out of the office at a decent hour, had a great chat with a friend, and made it home in time to get the yard mowed.

For the record, that’s twice for the year. I know someone is going to give me grief. But, if 30 minutes pushing the mower gets me a week’s worth of happy wife, it’s a burden I’m willing to share.

After I finished the yard, there was still a decent amount of twilight left, and Hey! I was all dressed to run, and sweaty to boot. So I headed upstairs, told the boys G’night, told the wife I’d be back in time for “My Name is Earl”, and headed out to do my bit to try to be a better person.

Dunno what it was about last night – maybe it was just the results of my unintentional “taper” (I hadn’t run/biked/swam since Sunday), maybe it was just residual stress from work (he he!), maybe it was just the full onslaught of a 70 degree sunny day after two days of rain (Check out Seth Dillingham’s post. Or, maybe it’s just that I’m a runner…

In any case, I headed down towards Old Mystic, and, given the choice between River Road and a 5 miler, and Main Street on the Stonington side of the river and a longer-than-five-miler … well, Ladies and Gents, I took the long road.

No iPod. No Forerunner. No HRM. Just shoes, shorts, socks, shirt, and the music of Spring Peepers filling my ears.

Ran through Old Mystic. Ran past the hotels and resturants right off the interstate, hoping to snag folks tired of sitting in traffic on their way to Cape Cod.

Ran past the Cemetary, and wondered if it would be respectful or not to go wander about on a warm spring day, thinking about the people planted there and their roles in building my community.

Ran past the fried seafood shacks working the bugs out of the fryers for the summer.

Ran past the tumbledown wharves and piers where the people in the cemetary built the ships that carried American commerce around the world.

Ran past the Seaport where they’re trying to keep those skills alive. Saw the guy who runs the planetarium getting out of work for the evening. Wondered briefly if he marks the end of generations of navigating with the stars in an era of satellite navigation and GPS watches. I tried the celestial thing, and other than being able to find Polaris at night, and tell east from west during the day, I’m lost.

Looked across the river on a still night at slack tide and wondered if the people living in the town reflected on the water wondered about those of us living in the air.

Ran across the drawbridge and thought happy thoughts of hearing the whistle at 40 minutes past the hour from now until the end of October.

Passed the ice cream shop. Thought about stopping.

Passed the coffee shop. Thought about stopping.

Passed the pub. Was pleasantly surprised I didn’t think about stopping.

Ran up River Road. Had the debate with myself over how to go home. Passed another runner, and decided to take the long way home.

In Old Mystic, about mile 7.5, I broke down and walked a bit. Not due to being in pain, or really being out of breath. In hindsight, I don’t know quite why I walked. But I did.

Ran the last half mile, including the awful hill. Walked in with the smug sense of satisfaction that a good, long run brings.

Showered, shaved, sat on the couch with the wife.

All is well with the world.