Just Me and My Road

School is winding down around here which is always very exciting! I remember how much I loved summer coming as a kid, and both junior Pit Crewers have expressed similar excitement. This is, perhaps, why I was a little taken back on this last full day of school morning -- When walking up to school with PC#3, I said, "Hey, this is the last time we'll walk up to this school together, just us." To my surprise, he got a little misty! Of course, I felt terrible (nothing like bringing on the bummer when dropping your kiddo off at the doors of school). I knew he'd bounce back as soon as he saw one of his friends, but still.

I gave him a hug sending him on his way, the way I have for so many years, then turned with Elly to take off on our 3-mile route. The way we have for so many years. I was grinning to myself about how sweet I found that moment with PC#3 and his sweet sentiment, when, in an instant, I found myself in a similar misty state. It hit me that this was the swan song of this particular route. To be honest, I wouldn't have predicted that I'd care. Evidently, my heart knew better:

To you, mile 0 - .7: I hate you. You're deceptively up hill for almost a mile, and that's just mean. Good for me, but mean. But, I do enjoy you, big, furry dog who lives on this street, because you say hello almost every morning. Loudly.

Hey, intersection at .7-miles: I totally dig you. I have spent a lot of time here waiting for cars, and while I used to be impatient because I had something to prove to myself about not stopping, I'm glad I chilled and learned to appreciate the down time. I enjoyed hanging out with you. Very sorry you had so much road kill to endure, though.

And, friend Trash Can right after mile 1: You are a life saver given I have a pup that utilizes her poo bag within the first mile. Many times over, I thank you!

Miles 1 - 1.4: You provided Elly with delightful smells of rotisserie chicken every morning, and I thank you on her behalf. It is also here where I was first (and often) cheered by my Good For You lady. Thank you for being her driving route, too!

Miles 1.4 - 1.6: It is not you that I thank as much as I appreciate the countless cars who allowed me to run against traffic along your stretch because your sidewalk randomly ran out. I always thought that was weird, but I hope you felt the love as I returned many times over.

Intersection at mile 1.6: Intriguing ... until today, I thought you were the 1.5 mile marker. I used this spot as my turn-around point when it snowed and the upcoming sidewalks weren't clear. I'm pleased you didn't let me catch on that I was going 2-tenths of a mile more (one tenth to the corner, one tenth back) than I knew. While they don't matter now, those 2-tenths might have done me in during those earliest running days! Thanks for letting me now know that I was stronger than I thought I was. It is also here where I knew if I hadn't yet seen my Good For You lady, I wasn't going to see her that day.

Miles 1.6 - 2.1: You are one busy stretch given the amount of traffic, the number of cars coming in and out of parking lots, the bus stops and pedestrians ... all while I'm going directly into the sun. Of all stretches on the route, yours was the liveliest of all. Thanks for the entertainment. And for the most-random money.

Miles 2.1 - 2.5: Please thank the big, huge trees that lined you. After coming out of the into-the-sun stretch, I always appreciated the shade!

Hey you, Intersection at mile 2.5: You're the same one as at mile .7, but you always seemed different. The traffic was thinned out by the time I saw you again, so I didn't often have to wait. I liked when I had to, though, so thank you for the times you showed me the hand!

Mile 3: You are the point where I always knew I could stop. You were on a perfect down hill in the shade. Years ago, I always stopped here because you have a wicked little incline right after you and it made me think bad words in between heavy breathing puffs. Anymore, I bypass you and get myself up that hill. But, I thank you for the option.

Ah, Mile 3.2: You were my original end point. It is to you I determined I should run to end my outing. It is here where I finished my very first 3-mile run without stopping, and it is on this point I finished a run on my 40th birthday. Elly has received countless end-of-the-run thank you kisses here, and, one day, it is here where I even found a dime. You, end-spot, have not been where I finish anything; you've been where I've racked up countless victories. You are a great spot.

After my run through memory lane, Elly and I wrapped it up as usual:

Let's see: Elly smiling; pennies in hand; Elly's eye boogers;
my hair in complete shambles ... Yup. Picture perfect!

I stood and took one more look at where I was and thought back to when this all began. Just me and the road. I didn't really know it mattered. But, it's neat to learn that it did.

With that, we were off. I'll see you tomorrow from another route! The runs must go on.

Thank you, original running route.