I almost forgot to write up my weekend run before the week from hell rolls over me.
Friday, I went to sleep early enough to wake up at 430 and be rested and ready to run Saturday morning. I had a bagel and coffee, read the paper and, of course, was two minutes late for the appointed run date with Susan and Patty. They were kind enough to wait for me.
They allowed me to be the run tour guide (Last week I took their lead). I offered a 9, 10 or 11 mile route that would be somewhat familiar to them. Indeed it was.
We took my Sunday morning route that I used to do with Chris, Jack and Tim back in December and January. It goes through the high rent/mortgage district but in the 6 a.m. mooneless morning light there's not much to see. In fact, in mile 4, Susan tripped on a manhole cover on the uneven brick street around Lake Knowles and took a tumble, falling on her hip. We got her back up and she said she was okay and good to go. We let her walk it off for a little while to make sure she wasn't falsely assured. Sure enough she was fine.
Around mile 7 we paused at my usual Gatorade cooler stash and shared a bottle of Tangerine Rain. On we went and when 10 miles was done we all felt quite fresh and exercised. Our time was slow but it didn't matter. We just kept moving, getting to know each other a little more than last week. It is some comfort to all work in the same field although my role is a far cry from theirs. I can't imagine being a principal. They must have to be so mean.
Both ladies had events at their school yesterday which is why we ran so early. There is a lot of redeeming merit in being fully tested for ten miles and then on your way home by 8 a.m. Susan had a carnival at her elementary school where there was to be a dunk tank. She assured me she was not going to be one of the dunk tank targets unless someone provided her a full wet suit. Nobody did so she was off the hook. I might have thrown down a few bucks to throw some balls to dunk her. I can remember being the dunk tank antagonist a few years ago at a big party on the field of the Citrus Bowl. I took great relish in throwing taunts at the tossers and passers by. Anything to get them to part with the money. It takes a special talent to be a dunk tank jerk.