Like I mentioned before, I was away this weekend for a wedding. I brought with my running clothes, my water bottle, my will power, and a map of the local state park for Sunday's long run. But, it was not to be.
The wedding was being held at the inn where we were staying, and the inn was not large enough to be sound proof. So when the party was still raging at midnight, I was still up, mildly irritated. (Yes, I am an old person who thinks that midnight is late.)
Then, the timing hit a snag. We were planning to take the noon ferry, giving me more than enough time to do a ca. 2 hour run before showering, packing, and getting to the dock on time, right? Nope. Evidently places on the the ferry are highly competitive Sunday mornings, so we needed to leave the hotel NO later than 9:30. I briefly contemplated getting up around 5 and trying to get the run in anyway, but the park I would run in doesn't open until 6:30am.
I'll do the long run tomorrow morning. I'm not going to skip it, but I'm not going to be crazy obsessive about it, either. (Today wasn't an option - my flight from SEA to JFK left at 6:30 this morning.)
At the end of the run, I jumped in the lake (literally). If there's one thing I'm not, it's spontaneous. If there are two things I'm not, it's spontaneous, and a swimmer. In fact, I took years of swimming lessons as a child at the YWCA and never moved beyond Guppy. But it was a warm day and the water was clear and inviting. We took off our shoes and our shirts and jumped in with our shorts and sports bras. It was amazing.
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"