A Crummy Blog Post
I slack off at keeping this blog current, but that doesn't mean I stop running or that I stop taking pictures (both when running and when not). When I look at the pictures stacked up in my phone it strikes me that they are a visual bread-crumb trail that I can follow from where I am back through the days that are behind me. The photos are doors along my trail of past runs, doors I can knock on and have opened by my memories. (I have the feeling this mixed metaphor is about to flatten me like a runaway train. Yikes, another metaphor.)
Anyway. Here's a brief visual trip back through some recent runs.
One Saturday in late June my club's Saturday training run took us to the Little Farm in Tilden Park. This was around the time of the Oscar Grant trial, which was feeding racial tensions across the state. I came upon these two peaceful bovines, the light-skinned one gently licking the dark-skinned one. No tension here.
On another Saturday, the training run was on East Bay Municipal Water District land, along the shores of San Pablo Reservoir. Before the run I jogged over to a nearby school to use the restroom and found myself next to this sign. At the time I saw it I had just been feeling cranky about some imagined grievance. (At home? at work? Do I even remember?) I loved the message here. I says to myself, self, I says: chill.
And then there was Carmel. In early July I had a wonderful solo run along Scenic Drive. Many thanks to my precious sister-in-law for the loan of her Carmel digs for the weekend. If I could run by the ocean every day I would be the world's most peaceful person.
I have continued my solo runs along the Ohlone Greenway, of course. In Berkeley and Albany my eyes are often caught by details. As I ran, I'd been thinking about soaring in my running shoes, and when I saw this bird I thought, yeah, just like that!
On July 25 I ran the San Francisco Half Marathon. The course went over the Golden Gate Bridge and back, then through the Presidio and on to the finish line, in Golden Gate Park. The run was fabulous--what a nice distance a half marathon is--and I was happy enough with my time. The best part of the day for me, however, was spending the afternoon with my favorite nephew, his wife, and Z. We started out doing a little sightseeing in the park and ended up at the top of Mt. Tamalpais, in Marin County. I posed with my medal and Fave Neph took the picture.
In case you haven't had enough, let me tell you that last Tuesday evening a club training run took us to the streets above Piedmont High School. When I get to run down streets like this, I feel like the most blessed being on the planet.
The last bread crumb in the trail is actually a cake. My running club had a run / picnic / potluck this morning. As Len Goldman, the long-time (13 years!) president, finally stepped down from his post, he was feted for his achievements. When asked how club members could survive without him, he was heard to say, "Let them eat cake!" OK, I made that last part up.
No more rambling for now--actual or figurative. Till my next scribbling here, may the birds stay away from all the bread crumb trails you lay down, and may knocking on the doors of memory bring you as much pleasure as it does me! (And may your metaphors be unmixed. Lotsa luck with that.)
Anyway. Here's a brief visual trip back through some recent runs.
One Saturday in late June my club's Saturday training run took us to the Little Farm in Tilden Park. This was around the time of the Oscar Grant trial, which was feeding racial tensions across the state. I came upon these two peaceful bovines, the light-skinned one gently licking the dark-skinned one. No tension here.
On another Saturday, the training run was on East Bay Municipal Water District land, along the shores of San Pablo Reservoir. Before the run I jogged over to a nearby school to use the restroom and found myself next to this sign. At the time I saw it I had just been feeling cranky about some imagined grievance. (At home? at work? Do I even remember?) I loved the message here. I says to myself, self, I says: chill.
And then there was Carmel. In early July I had a wonderful solo run along Scenic Drive. Many thanks to my precious sister-in-law for the loan of her Carmel digs for the weekend. If I could run by the ocean every day I would be the world's most peaceful person.
I have continued my solo runs along the Ohlone Greenway, of course. In Berkeley and Albany my eyes are often caught by details. As I ran, I'd been thinking about soaring in my running shoes, and when I saw this bird I thought, yeah, just like that!
On July 25 I ran the San Francisco Half Marathon. The course went over the Golden Gate Bridge and back, then through the Presidio and on to the finish line, in Golden Gate Park. The run was fabulous--what a nice distance a half marathon is--and I was happy enough with my time. The best part of the day for me, however, was spending the afternoon with my favorite nephew, his wife, and Z. We started out doing a little sightseeing in the park and ended up at the top of Mt. Tamalpais, in Marin County. I posed with my medal and Fave Neph took the picture.
In case you haven't had enough, let me tell you that last Tuesday evening a club training run took us to the streets above Piedmont High School. When I get to run down streets like this, I feel like the most blessed being on the planet.
The last bread crumb in the trail is actually a cake. My running club had a run / picnic / potluck this morning. As Len Goldman, the long-time (13 years!) president, finally stepped down from his post, he was feted for his achievements. When asked how club members could survive without him, he was heard to say, "Let them eat cake!" OK, I made that last part up.
No more rambling for now--actual or figurative. Till my next scribbling here, may the birds stay away from all the bread crumb trails you lay down, and may knocking on the doors of memory bring you as much pleasure as it does me! (And may your metaphors be unmixed. Lotsa luck with that.)
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