Stolen Ideas

I recently came across an amazingly inspirational runner’s blog. Stacy is awesome . She runs several miles a day, rain or shine, hungover or not. Of course, she is fortunate enough to run around New York City, through Central Park, etc. Nevertheless, her blog inspired me. And since I Am Not Unique, I shamelessly stole her idea. But it’s more for me than for anyone reading my blog, and this is why: I’m running through a San Antonio neighborhood, just inside Loop 410. Let me tell you, it is no Central Park. But I figured that if I had another purpose, besides just jogging, I might be more excited about it.

So yesterday after work, I got home around 5 pm. I changed into some running tights that my sister recently returned to me and my favorite running t shirt. It has a pretty large hole in the right armpit for optimal air circulation. I retrieved my cell phone for two reasons. First, I love to use the Endomondo app because it tells me how far I’ve run while I’m running. Therefore I don’t have to have a route mapped out. Secondly, since I hate carrying anything extra with me while I run, I needed it for the camera also.

Initially I felt good. Maybe even three miles good. Did I mention that I am by no means a runner, or even a jogger? It’s all mental, and my mind is a powerful thing. Yesterday was overcast and slightly humid. Not optimal running weather, but good enough. I turned right at the corner, and came to the first alley. My boyfriend Jeff and I enjoy running down alleys. It is fun to look at the back of people’s homes with their fancy pools and plush foliage. Oh wait, that was in San Bernardino County.

Halfway down this San Antonio alley I understood that all I would see was unkempt yards and A LOT of dogs. Then there was a huge dog behind a little fence. A little, weak, bending-precariously-against-the-weight-of-said-dog wire fence. My first thought was to take a picture. That would have been awesome. But then my desire for survival quickly overcame my blogging urge. So I swerved to the left side of the alley. My heart dropped to my stomach. A huge jaw full of teeth came within inches centimeters of my right arm. Damn these dogs and flimsy fences. Dead sprint.

I turned left out of the alley. No more alleys, I thought to myself. So I slowed down to my normal snail pace, content to pound the pavement instead of the dirt and rocks that make the alleys so ruggedly desirable. Three quarters of the way up the block, as I was despising the high rising highway that is Loop 410, my phone piped up, “One kilometer.” I like to have it programed to kilometers instead of miles. Kilometers are easier to run than miles. Of course, I’m constantly calculating how far I have actually gone in miles, but that keeps me distracted from my burning lungs for at least a few minutes. Or several minutes, since my math skills aren’t so hot.

I was taking in my surroundings, filled with jealousy because there was no real photo opportunity. Where’s my Central Park? (There are pretty places in San Antonio, but I don’t believe in driving somewhere just so you can run. It’s like driving to the gym to run on the treadmill. Although I have done that.) The next street down, there were some guys in front of a house. They started hollering, and I heard a high pitched engine coming down the street.

It’s no New York skyline. Just a kid on a small motorcycle. On the sidewalk. Keep on running.

I finally heard my phone alert me that I had made it two kilometers. Around that time, I decided that I was only going two miles. Mostly because I still hadn’t recovered from my sprint down the alley. So just 1.2 k to go.

I rounded the corner toward the neighborhood park, which is less a park than it is a field of weeds. Skateboarding is not dead.

I suppose my attempt to blog my jog motivated me a little. It did not help me go farther. I did not capture any breathtaking photos. But I did jog two miles, and I strayed from my normal route. That’s better than nothing. I don’t know if I will run today. They are predicting heavy storms still. But I will run again, and when I do, I will be prepared to catch the neighborhood on the proverbial film.