So, my own plan to run smarter was sidelined a bit on monday. I am planning on running at least twice a week, preferably three times a week. To keep myself from derailing right off the bat, I have a couple of contingency plans for days when my schedule may be tossed aside for life events. Monday was one of those events. Simple enough, I had to drop my vehicle off at the shop for an overnighter. Yes, I could have waited around for my friend to come pick me up. Or, I could take my running gear and take a nice easy run over to his house. Ah, the best laid plans... It all went easily enough, I used the bathroom to change into my cool weather running gear that was so excellent at the OCR last weekend, and my feet comfortably shod in my lovely Merrills. I had my little backpack, so stuffed it with street clothes, regular sneakers, thermos, phone and wallet, snugged the straps and jogged off into the wilds of Lake Oswego feeling a bit like I was training for a GoRuck Challenge.
For those of you who don't know the area, Lake Oswego is an upscale, uppity city, with signs saying "Homes starting at $589,000." Yeah, that kind of neighborhood. It is pretty, and scenic, and traffic clogged, and NOT pedestrian friendly. Many of the streets don't have much in the way of sidewalks or even decent shoulders to trod. And none of the streets seem to go straight, and only the main drags seem to go through from point A to point B. Most dead-end or loop back around. I was not deterred.
Jogging down the hill, backpack bouncing, rush hour traffic roaring past, filling my lungs with belching exhaust, I really wanted to get off onto a peaceful side street. Knowing the side streets were likely just lures into suburbia with no exit, I steered clear. I came to the railroad tracks, heading in the direction I knew I wanted to go, so, off I went. Winding through mostly urban woods and bramble, the tracks were peaceful. I ran for a bit along the side, in packed gravel, I felt good. To change it up a bit I hopped onto the tracks and ran on the ties. This was fun because they ties are a little too far apart to take them two at a time, and too close for one at a time. I alternated a quick, short pace, with an overly long stride, and just enjoyed the feel of my legs responding. After a bit I realized the possible downside; keeping my head down to watch where I was putting my feet, I couldn't keep an eye on my surroundings, and I was kind of in the middle of nothing, it made me a great target if someone wanted to launch a surprise attack. Oh well, nothing I could do about it at this point, I kept running, but tried to keep one eye on my whereabouts. I could hear the Interstate to my left, so knew I was heading in the right direction.
Suddenly, I was faced with an underpass. The tracks were heading under the freeway, and there was no way to get up onto the roads I knew must be a mere stone's throw away. I backtracked to a spur that went off to the right. Jog jog jog. I was enjoying myself. Finally I see a major intersection, undoubtedly the road I was looking for. I jogged on. After a moment I thought, "Gads, these neighborhoods all look alike," followed by the realization that I had managed to actually run a complete circle and end up right back where I had started. So, 30 minutes in, I was no closer to my destination.
I turned around, headed back down the hill, backpack still bouncing, rush hour traffic still roaring past, filling my lungs with belching exhaust. And I still wanted to get off onto a peaceful side street. This time I decided to run all the way to the Interstate, since there had to be an access road that paralleled it. I turned onto the most likely candidate and jogged along, freeway to my left. Realizing a few blocks in that the road was a loop that would take me back to the main drag, again. I started looking at alternatives. Could I cut through a parking lot? No, six foot chain link fence blocked every path. I jogged on, occasionally walking to get my bearings and look at my surroundings. I finally decided that there was nothing to do but get to the freeway, jog alongside it for the quarter mile or so to the off ramp that would take me straight to my friend's house.
I jogged along, skirting the outside of the fence protecting FedEx from raging wildlife, eyeballing the steep, blackberry covered embankment. I spied what seemed to be a thinning of the vines, only about twenty feet of thigh high, thorny impediment between me and my new objective. I approached carefully, respectfully. The first few feet in, stepping high, crushing vines beneath my feet, avoiding thorns, convincing myself that this was a good idea, when the rains started in earnest. Up to this point it had been a sporadic sprinkle, now it was a deluge. Nothing for it but to keep moving, besides, I was still enjoying myself. Climbing upwards, vines snatching at skin and clothing. I slipped a little, teetered, regained my balance and started the mantra, "don't slip, don't slip, don't slip." I imagined myself falling, getting totally ensnared, having to call for help, if I could manage to get my phone out of my backpack, "Yeah, I got a little lost. Where am I? Funny you should ask..." But I did not slip, fought my way free of the briarpatch, and scrambled up the rain slick, muddy embankment. I almost did a victory dance, but the gale force winds made me decide to save that for arrival at my destination. There was a narrow path with good footing snug up against the outside edge of the concrete barricade. I jogged on. Jog jog jog. The rain was hitting me horizontally, I grinned. I felt good. Wet, but good. As I neared the off ramp, I did have to hop over the concrete barricade and onto the shoulder of the freeway to cross over the railroad tracks, I looked down and laughed, knowing I had stood down there 45 minutes earlier, pondering how to get on my way. I jogged on. Finally, off the freeway, back onto anti-pedestrian road, rain horizontal, wind whipping my dripping hair and threatening to snatch my cap from my head. I jogged on, feeling a little tired. I looked at my watch, I had been running for over an hour, with few walking breaks. I figured that I had run about 10K. Tired, but the finish line in sight, not the time to slow down. "Finish Strong," I whispered. And I did, I ran, getting in a final kick as I saw the familiar house like a safe harbor.
I did not stop running until the last few steps onto the front porch. I knocked, tried to slow my breathing and stretch a little. The door opened, a smile, "You look like a drowned rat." I laugh. Hospitality: a hot shower, dry towel, and hot dinner. It was a good run.
No comments:
Post a Comment