On a whim we decided to strike out on a trail run late in the week, the idea actually devolved from plans of an overnight backpacking trip that became less practical as the impending weekend came into focus.
Here’s how this sort of thing plays out in our household…
It’s Friday evening and I have just jumped off of the lawn mower after getting a head start on the weekend chores and the sound of a beer cap hitting the deck is interupted by a verbalized stream of consciousness.
“Let’s go for a trail run tomorrow!!!”
Unaffected by my outburst, Ash thumbs through her cook book & without batting an eye responds with, “OK”.
She’s used to my last minute ideas and knows all too well the ridiculous things I ponder while in the “Zen” of grass cutting.
But where to run???
Ash was inclined to run the river, so James River Park was the destination of choice …
Another curious thing seems to happen when plans are made on Fridays.
Another bottle cap hit the deck as I made my standard proclamation that I wanted to be out running early…
Plans be dammed, and Friday nights forever to be the reason why, we crossed the emergency access bridge and headed down the trail at around 10:00am, certainly not the early birds who’s mission it was to get the worm…
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Needless to say, by 11:00am it was getting hot, not unbearable, but a definite nod to the Virginia summer lying in wait.
As we bounded down the path we passed scores of folks out enjoying the well groomed trails of Buttermilk & North Bank under a blazing sky.
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We would log 7 miles or so on the flowing single track with the hum of the Hangar 1 Vodka Blimp keeping time.
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As a side note; it was the first real distance I had put on my ankle since the scope, it felt weird, a little sore, but no worse for the wear.
Here’s how this sort of thing plays out in our household…
It’s Friday evening and I have just jumped off of the lawn mower after getting a head start on the weekend chores and the sound of a beer cap hitting the deck is interupted by a verbalized stream of consciousness.
“Let’s go for a trail run tomorrow!!!”
Unaffected by my outburst, Ash thumbs through her cook book & without batting an eye responds with, “OK”.
She’s used to my last minute ideas and knows all too well the ridiculous things I ponder while in the “Zen” of grass cutting.
But where to run???
Ash was inclined to run the river, so James River Park was the destination of choice …
Another curious thing seems to happen when plans are made on Fridays.
Another bottle cap hit the deck as I made my standard proclamation that I wanted to be out running early…
Plans be dammed, and Friday nights forever to be the reason why, we crossed the emergency access bridge and headed down the trail at around 10:00am, certainly not the early birds who’s mission it was to get the worm…
Needless to say, by 11:00am it was getting hot, not unbearable, but a definite nod to the Virginia summer lying in wait.
As we bounded down the path we passed scores of folks out enjoying the well groomed trails of Buttermilk & North Bank under a blazing sky.
We would log 7 miles or so on the flowing single track with the hum of the Hangar 1 Vodka Blimp keeping time.
As a side note; it was the first real distance I had put on my ankle since the scope, it felt weird, a little sore, but no worse for the wear.
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| The "mysterious" Hangar 1 Vodka blimp hovering above |
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