Thursday, July 2, 2009
Beavers in July
I ran an easy hour on Thursday morning. I was dreading the run since I went to bed physically and mentally exhausted. I awoke at 6 and was out the door by 6:30. I crawled south along the RCT until I hit the trails at Walter Reed. While running along the misty creek, I noticed something swimming towards me. I stopped, backtracked and stared into the green abyss below, but saw nothing. I waited, but still saw nothing. I shook my head and continued down the trail. Within a couple of minutes I saw what I had thought I saw earlier – a beaver. Though, this was at a different spot. For some reason I see beavers in Rock Creek every July…and only July. This is the third July in a row where I’ve seen beavers. WTF! Do beavers only come out in Maryland in July? After cursing at the beaver for showing up on July 1st, I continued on my way and saw the local TV channel weather person walking her dog and an assortment of other characters doing their morning routine in the park. I hit my turn around in 32:30, which is the slowest I’ve ever done…but it felt so nice. I ran back to the creek’s shore to really give the beaver a piece of mind, but he wasn’t around. Lame. I lumbered back home and actually felt as if I had recovered from the workout the night before. 9 miles.
I finished reading Again to Carthage on Wednesday while in the airport waiting for a delayed flight. I had been frustrated with the book and found parts of the novel hokey and lame. I wanted the book to be good…just like I wanted Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull to be good, but I felt like I was forcing it. However, I was pleasantly surprised with the ending and marveled at the author’s writing style during the last couple of chapters. I suppose it is worth reading just for the final chapters and if you’re simply a fan of running books…after all there are only 3-4 running books out there.
I arrived back on Cape Cod after midnight and was greeted by my loyal companion, Montana (the dog). The first thing I noticed was how old he looked, which made me feel incredibly depressed. He was whining and obviously happy to see me. He circled around me, tail wagging, and looked up at me with old sad eyes. His eyes were foggy, like the glass eyes in an old stuffed animal. He followed me up to my room and jumped on the end of my bed. But, as he usually does, jumped down and wandered back downstairs to sleep in my parent's room. When I awoke on Thursday morning, I was thinking about work, which I often do. I tumbled around with my eyes shut thinking about all the stuff I had to do today once I got into the office, until I realized I didn't need to care. I heard my dog's collar jingle somewhere in the house and I opened my eyes. I was home.
Then for the umpteenth time in my life, I laced up some shoes and went out for a run.