Last evening I went for a run that I was disenchanted to even begin. Not only had a few women been attacked around Lake Merrit the previous evening (thanks freaky people) and that blocked off street they let me run through last week was due to a gas leak (thanks PG&E), but my stomach had been sort of a mess all day long (thanks Angie and Sean for your Poo Counseling!*). Still, a run was just what the doctor ordered, and is part of my plan to stay sane and healthy, so with my pepper spray in hand, out I went.
Before half a mile was over, I had been stopped at the world’s two longest stoplights, plus stuck on a median strip, and my stomach was cramping. There was a deep moment where I contemplated simply giving up, turning around, and walking home. Obviously, the powers that be had something to tell me. Thankfully, I didn’t stop, because those PTB had something to say about perseverance.
At the one mile mark, my cramp was ever-present, but I passed a bass clarinetist in duet with an upright bassist who was using a bow. And at the one and a half mile mark? A solo saxophonist was jamming away. At mile two a girl about my age ran by me wearing a T-shirt that proclaimed in large letters, “I Am Happy You Are Alive!” And at mile two point five, there was a solo clarinestist doodling his way through scales and tunes.
My stomach may have still been the opposite of happy when I returned home, but my heart and head were warm.
PS: Swimming in the morning is the best way to start the day! I’ve felt more awake the past two days than in the past week!
* A serious thank you, to be sure.