Getting up at 5:00 during the week means that sleeping in on the weekends goes to 5:30 or so. Yes, I could stay in bed but that would lead to thinking. Having sworn that off for the weekend, it’s rise-n-shine. No time like the pre-dawn hours to work one’s way through a bit of Karen Armstrong. I started that book back in September or October, so it’s about time that I finished it off. There were two other books in between, just so you know.
The problem with books, as any fascist can tell you, is that they often lead to thinking. Having sworn that off, I needed to get up and out for a good run. Heading over to the Valley of Love and Delight seemed both easy and rote, so I was not sure that was the best choice; however, my Sweet Lady and Tallulah will be out of town next weekend. I did not want to roam far, so VLD it was.
With low hanging clouds and a light rain, there is one obvious choice: kilt run. I have not drug out the unbifurcated garment much since last summer, so it was time to get my Scot on. It was not immediately clear that the associated undergarments were available, so I thought about going Full Scot for the first time. Fortunately, the pair of jockey shorts in the dryer kept me from taking on that sort of exposure.
There were actually a couple of runners on the road, which I never see when I am running on the road. They have the good sense to let the sun come up before they go running. As I was headed to the trails, I drove on by with a wave. Within a minute on foot, it was clear, as it always is, that I am no where close to being tired of running these trails. For sure, many of them are very familiar now, but in this case familiarity breeds appreciation.
A good hour is sufficient at this point to quiet the committee carrying on oversight hearings in my head. The cows and hippies probably wondered what was up with the guy in the skirt, but what do I care? My biggest concern was to be very careful in crossing the electric fences. Very careful. Also too, I should have loaded up on some body glide. Some memories fade over time.