On the weeks when I work two double shifts, I struggle to get my miles in. In addition to being somewhat obsessive about exercise, I am also mistress of the rationalization so, I console myself on these alternating weeks with the fact that I get some physical activity running up and down the stairs at the Wine Bar. Guilt assuaged.
I had planned to take a run yesterday, but between a super late Friday night, an array of errands and a soccer game (we won), I just knew I didn’t have it in me. Sunday was essentially looking wide-open and I decided I’d experience that long run which had become almost mythical in my mind – my house to Delaware to Whitehall to New Scotland to Slingerlands and the bypass, to Kenwood and back to Delaware and then home. I finally had the time and today seemed the ideal day to give it a go.
After a relaxing morning, I put myself in the mindset that my run was a St. Patrick’s Day treat akin to soda bread and a pot of tea from Bewley’s. I particularly appreciated that any residual March 18 discomfort would be the result of muscle exertion rather than beer
over indulgence. My weather app kept promising clouds, but luckily they never materialized. I think the somewhat aggressive wind may have kept those moving right along in the blue sky.
What kept me moving over the 9.5+ miles? Good music, thoughts of my late Uncle John McMenamin, a man who loved a good brisk walk along the Irish Sea, and my sense that the sun was in complete approval of my efforts. I allowed myself to move at a pace that I could keep moving at and I am absolutely content with my outing. If Uncle John and I were able to sit down together with a couple of bowls of his wife Bridie’s creamy vegetable soup, I’d say today was just about an ideal St. Patrick’s Day. I hope yours was equally enjoyable.