Now I'm so used to hitting the post-Baystate/pre-holiday wall that I just plan on it and just figure whatever jiggly jogging I can manage until Christmas will keep me from getting so far gone that I can't come back to where I was and then some. In the spirit of the season, this past Saturday I participated in the first ever Reading Pub Run. This was easily one of the dumbest days of my post-collegiate life but, wow, it was fun.
And the best part is nobody got hit by a car (though there were a couple of close calls) or arrested. Success! Next year, we'll have 50 guys by accident as the legend of this stupidity spreads throughout the suburbs, but the Original 11 will always have Saturday, November 20, 2010 to remember. They can never take that away from us.
Not only did I spend the afternoon jogging from bar to bar and getting progressively less able to run in a straight line, but afterward I jogged home, showered and then my wife and I got on a party bus into Boston. Yikes. Waking up the next morning was sort of like college, except in addition to a massive hangover I also realized I had four kids and a huge mortgage payment. Oh, and Marc C's license and ATM card (no idea how.)
After shuffling gingerly about the house most of Sunday, doing some housework and making some meatballs and sauce, I finally put on my running gear and went out for some running, distance and time TBD. All in all it was a pleasant late-fall run: cool and crisp with the smell of wood fires in the air. At one point as I was running up Charles Street something caught my eye to my left and I turned my head to see a tall guy in a kilt, high boots, a leather jacket and smoking a cigar put a travel mug of something on the roof of his car as he shoved his hands in his jacket pocket for his keys. I wonder where he was going? I got in about 9 miles, my 2nd longest run since Baystate.
This week will feature some more jogging around in a haze and stuffing myself with turkey and trimmings. Happy Holidays!