teresa

March 3, 2008, the start of my first vacation in a long time.  Elliott woke up and went to work and I woke up and put on my running shoes.  Excited to squeeze in the 5 miles I was supposed to run yesterday but due to a longer than expected drive back from Reno it didn’t happen.  I finished packing, procrastinated, charted out my course on the computer and off I went.  I decided to run down a street (Tassajara) that Elliott won’t normally run on with me because there isn’t a sidewalk along the entire path - but I was feeling adventurous so I wanted to try it.  I took off down the street feeling pretty good, grinning at all of the people in their cars going to work and me cheating the world out for a morning run, during the week, and after 7am.

Eventually the sidewalk on my side of the street stopped but I could see a sidewalk on the other side.  I ran through the dirt and weeds for awhile along the shoulder but when the traffic cleared I decided to cross.  There was a median between the 2 directions of traffic so I jogged across one side of the street and then when I made it to the dirt divider I looked back to see the other direction of traffic and saw nothing, I rotated a few more degrees to realize that I wasn’t in the median I was on the other side of the street.  I had jogged across 2 lanes of traffic of a pretty major street the road between Dublin/Pleasanton and Danville, and looked only one way.  I stopped, shocked and looked at the cars coming my way with only little openings between the clusters of cars and I said thank you, for having made it across safely in my haze of stupidity.  The confusing part in my defense was another paved section after the “median” that once I got over there I realized was maybe a frontage road or bike path, not sure, but I thought it was the street.  I realized that Elliott was right.  All of those times he made us wait at an intersection for the walk sign and I sighed mad if there weren’t any cars coming - why did we have to wait.  All those times I asked to run up Tassajara and he said no, because there isn’t a sidewalk.  Perhaps he was right.  My delicate little body would not fare so well when going up against a car.  I ran more aware than ever before the rest of the way, staying on the sidewalk, looking around corners and all the time being thankful for my life, and having not started my vacation out in the hospital. 

Eventually the sidewalk ended on my side of street as well, I jogged for a few more feet searching for a wide shoulder, bike lane or new sidewalk, but nothing appeared.  Before today I would have probably continued but instead I turned around.  I decided to go into a neighborhood I hadn’t been in before and I found an extension of a trail that I didn’t know was there.  Something new… that’s what I enjoy about running. 

So I woke up today to realize that proceeding through life, exhausted, in a haze, and unconnected to your surroundings is dangerous.  So this week while on vacation I will stop to smell the flowers, sleep in a little more than usual and run on the sidewalk.