Modern medicine can be a wonderful thing!  I heeded a 5 am wake-up call with no traces of headache remaining, thanks to the migraine pills I popped before bed.  I had a big Friday morning ahead of me- a 15 mile run, a quick shower, and a departure time of 11 am for a 3 hour drive North.  Since I had a lot of ground to cover and time was at a premium, I planned on running the same route as the past two weekends and adding on one mile.

Because it was Friday, I only had to share the road with a sprinkling of cyclists but many more cars.  One came way too close to hitting me as it rolled through a STOP sign in to the crosswalk that I was already running across.  I fired some explicatives at it but was wishing I had something more lethal, like almonds.  A friend recently threw some at a car when it stole her parking spot and said it sounded like gun fire.  Mental note- next run bring special conventional (not the organic that I eat)  almonds and my squirt gun.  I also encountered two flocks of wild turkeys meandering along the side of the road.  Birds freak me out even more than folks on their bikes so I worked in some sprinting when we crossed paths.  However, for the most part the run went without incident.  I felt fine, my pace was decent and I didn’t get crushed by a car or attacked by foul.  The highlight was at mile 10.5 when my man surprised me on the side of the road with some cold water and a big smooch.  I was tempted to crawl in to the car with him and ride home, but instead pressed on towards the infamous multi-use path hill.

As I approached the mocking behemoth, I decided to employ the same tactic as last weekend during my climb.  My eyes averted from what lay ahead, I was pleased to see that someone had taken it upon themselves to clean up the place a little.  I saw only a fraction of the garbage I had tallied last weekend.  I began formulating plans to come back when I wasn’t running and do my share of pick-up, to pay it forward.  That’s when I saw them out of the corner of my right eye- the brown Calvin Klein men’s underwear were still there.  I was strangely comforted and disturbed by this fact all at once.  Most likely, no one had cleaned up anything at all.  My new theory was that the wind had simply carried the cups, napkins, cigarette packs, otter pop wrappers etc. to a new location.  The underwear, not being very aerodynamic, was left behind.  If I weren’t such a germaphobe, I might have high-fived (or kicked) the Calvins in appreciation.  

 

Once again, I slowly made it to the the top of the hill without walking- this time also sans puking.  The most challenging part of the run proved to be the final mile, not since I was ready to stop where  I did last weekend, but because I actually ran by my house to tack it on.  It was pure torture, but as marathon training dictates, I’m becoming a real masochist.  Following some time efficient stretching and showering,  I climbed in to my SUV ready to embark on the next chapter of my day.

I drove and drove and drove and drove, stopping once for a much needed coffee break.  I felt fine until the last hour, the ETA minutes barely ticking by on my car GPS.  I finally had to shut it off  because I couldn’t stop peeking (sound familiar) and the numbers were not ones I wanted to see.  The other problem was I could hardly keep my eyes open.  I began gobbling Altoids like candy (which they’re definitely not) for some sensory stimulation.  I suppose running a 15-miler and immediately after driving 160 miles was kind of stupid, but it was really the only available window of time in this family triathlon weekend.  So I drove some more, arrived at our destination barely awake yet in one piece, unpacked and fell hard- on a bed (luckily) and in to a delicious recovery sleep.