Ten Again

The urge to walk ten miles again was building in me, and I knew I'd do it some time this weekend.  When Lynn asked me on Thursday to take her to the airport early Saturday morning, I knew I'd found the perfect plan:  Get her to the aiport by 7:45, return home, grab Banks for five miles at the trail, return him home and then do another five around the neighborhood.  So I skipped the Friday walk in favor of Saturday's two-fer.

But sleep for me, as I've reminded you countless times, is a delicate thing, and whenever I have a semi-important early morning commitment,  I usually don't sleep well the night before.  Last night was no exception. I kept waking up and checking the time, and finally, around 4:00 AM, I just got up.  And there was Banks, and there were my tennis shoes.....and I decided to just go for the whole thing.  It was wonderfully cool and breezy out, and the idea of getting ten miles -- three hours of walking -- out of the way BEFORE doing my airport run, was just too tempting. 

I took Banks toward Stacy Park, and we did the modified hill-climbing course -- I avoided the steepest hills (for Banks' sake), took the others, and lengthened them by walking all the way towards South Congress, or as far as we could possibly go on flatter terrain, just to stretch the miles.  We walked the wide and empty streets; no need to adhere to the cramped sidewalks at this hour. It was exactly 4:12 when we started; when I returned him home, it was 5:36.  I gulped some water, clipped on my radio and earphones, brought along my phone, just to keep a close eye on the time, and headed towards St. Ed's.  I know the place well enough to know where the mostly hidden inclines are, but this time I avoided them and stayed on even ground, finishing up with 9 or 10 laps around the soccer field.  At 7:05, I headed towards home, and came in the door at exactly 7:12. 

The best part was picking up Lynn, who noted my sweaty condition and asked if I'd done my five already.  "I've done TEN!" I chortled, triumphantly.  Lord, I can be insufferable about this thing.

I felt more stiff than sore, reminiscant of my first few attempts at five miles.  Mostly what I was, was starving.  I have recently perfected the Egg McMuffin in my own kitchen, and had that, and two huge mugs of coffee.  Jackson is housesitting for Lynn, and I've got the place to myself.  Classical music is blaring, and my patio is ablaze with color after four days of rain.  Life is good.  Very, very good.