I always loved running... it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.
I am no Jesse Owens...
So I changed out of my smart teaching clothes yesterday and put on some old sweats. I was going to do my running along the Alameda Beach. Endorphins, I have been told, keep the General Malaise at bay.
My thighs burn from Saturday's run and they had been burning since my Ash Wednesday run. The Arnica montana gel has been a temporary help. Last night's tiger balm switched my concern from the burning sensation to the cooling sensation that prevented me from sleeping for a good 40 minutes.
But I did it. I sustained 2 segments of 5 minute walk, 15 minute jog.
On flat land on a beach it was certainly easier than running eastward and up into the hills of Oakland. I counted my minutes with music. So much easier with music. My makeshift fanny pack consisted of a shirt tied about my waist and a little toiletry bag with a zipper that held my car keys and the iPod Mini (silver).
I started at the south end of Alameda Beach, just south of the bowling alley and made it just a touch past the northern part of the beach, before it heads into the park and back in 30 minutes. I walked as a cool down toward the end and walked into a neighborhood of homes that were well kept and filled with families I didn't know.
In less than 5 months I will run across the Golden Gate Bridge.
General Malaise be damned.