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Monday Run

I missed my Sunday run so thought it would be a good idea to run on Monday. It wasn’t raining when I got home from work, so I got on my gear and off I went.

My run time is up to 44 minutes. I did not increase it by the recommended 10 percent this week, thinking to give myself a break while the play is going on (Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre; I may have mentioned that before). When I set out Monday I was undecided: 20 minutes, 30 minutes or the full 44? I would see how it went.

I was able to cross German Street right away. I headed in the direction of Main Street, because I saw a pedestrian headed in the opposite direction. Yes, I often decide my route based on these arbitrary considerations. Well, who wants to follow a pedestrian? Suppose it took me three blocks to pass her? How would that make me feel?

I thought I’d go up the hill out Main Street. It’s steep enough to be challenging, and you have a choice: you can either keep going on up or turn off in one of two places. Oh, it was not fun going uphill, but I thought about how I like to be tough and run up hills. “Run,” of course, is the generous term I use to describe my middle-aged shuffle. But you knew that.

As I continued my run, it became clear that I was not going to reach the “I can rock this” stage, much less the “I LOVE running” stage. I reflected that I had not had a perseverance run in a while. It would be good for me.

I ran down a rather lengthy dead end street. At least, there was no sign saying “Dead End” or even “No Outlet,” but I was pretty sure I had run up it before and it was. Still, a different street, a quiet street. I ran down it. I could turn around and run back. I know how.

Then I heard the ice cream truck behind me. Was that thing stalking me? Damn! No ice cream. No ice cream. I picked up the pace a little, but the music only got louder. Well, I can’t outrun a truck, not even an ice cream truck. I didn’t have any cash to buy any ice cream anyways. There was no point in asking for credit.

At last I reached the end of the road and turned around. And discovered that the ice cream truck was not on that road after all. Had it caught the brain waves of my frustration and turned around, or had it never been on the street to begin with? Sound does travel. No matter. The truck was gone now. I could continue my run.

On and on I ran till I found myself in the business district. For those that are still in business. I ran by Pete’s Tavern. Ooh, a beer would taste good. Hydration. But I was a little informally dressed, even for Pete’s. And, of course, the lack of cash.

I passed a couple of young ladies with extremely cute toddlers in strollers.

“Oh, would you please give me a ride in that stroller thingy?” I asked.

“Sure, no problem!” one of them said with a smile.

Past the post office and through Myers Park. It looked as if I might make it for 40 or more minutes if I didn’t run straight home. I passed two ladies and two young boys in front of a house. The boys had a scooter and a Big Wheel.

“Could I borrow that scooter?” I asked. “I need wheels!” I would have had to crunch way over and squat down, but it would have been worth it. The ladies laughed. I know, the same joke twice. I make that joke all the time. What do you want from me, I was running.

As I ran toward my street, the words echoed in my head, “I can totally run the Boilermaker!” Oh, you can push past fatigue. I forget that sometimes.

I ran for the full 44 minutes by virtue of running from end to end of my block before doubling back to my house. I felt pretty good about myself and pretty tired. Not a bad combination for a Monday night when you don’t have rehearsal.

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