My prerogative

2 12 2010

Oops, I did it again.

Run that is. Or rather, accompany Katie on one of her runs.

Although I suggested it, encouraged it even; so I’m not sure if that counts as accompanying any more.

Not that I’m about to start calling myself a runner. No way.

But with last week’s snow and cold, and this week’s persistent rain (in other words, typical late-November early-December weather for this part of the world), the exercise and slob quotients have been moving in opposite directions, neither in my favor. And frankly, it’s making me miserable.

So, it’s run or die. Well, maybe not that dramatic. But for now, it’s a heck of a lot less complicated than loading up the mountain bike in the darkness and drizzle, driving 45 minutes, riding for an hour, driving home for another 45 minutes, then spending an hour tomorrow cleaning up the resultant mess.

Runners just have to throw on their clothes and sneakers, and they're off.

A four kilometer run from one end of the Quay to the other and back took us all of 30 minutes from the time we walked out the door to our return to the warmth of the condo. And it was a fun way to enjoy the Christmas lights people have been stringing along their balconies and decks all along the waterfront.

This is one way to enjoy the twinkle lights along the waterfront.

Runners are still crazy, in my book. All that pounding on the pavement can’t be good for the feet, ankles, shins and knees. But I’ll grant them it’s a pretty convenient exercise. At its most basic, you just have to throw on some old workout clothes, tie your sneakers and head out the door. No bikes to shuttle from condo to car. No repair and inner tubes to gather and pack. And when you get home, no tedious clean up to tend to.

Of course, in our world nothing is so simple. Going for a run means clipping lights to various articles of clothing, firing up the Garmin GPS, then waving your arms about because the tall condo towers are blocking satellite reception, and making a selection from a whole cornucopia of sneakers.

Even then, we’ve still got time to watch a movie afterward. And eat a snack. Guilt free.

Bring on the snacks!

 

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