Q: Does one far, slow run coupled with one short, fast run a week make you faster?

A: Totally beside the point. Running for me is about pleasure. Sure it's hard (REALLY hard), but it's also soothing, calming, and somehow invigorating. Don't ask me how--it's the great paradox.

Today's Blog, a Q&A.

Saturday's fresh cool morning began with me sneaking away from my warm and slumbering JRod--off to meet Brenda for 11 at 7...that is, 11 miles, beginning at 7:00 a.m. En route to my car (the poor, dilapidated Green Monster, complete with new AC Compressor, dome light, and brake lights), I realized I had spent nearly every cent to my name on said car.

Q: What's a runner to do, when faced with the knowledge that sheer calamity, in the form of an unfilled parking meter, faces her?
A: Use the spare key given to her by warm, slumbering (and thankfully unconscious) JRod to gain entry to his treasure-filled ashtray--a veritable cache of quarters.

$2.25 richer, pocket jingling merrily, I continued on to Brenda's, snagging a great parking spot right on the running route. By tucking the extra quarter, plus one from the Green Monster's cupholder, into my hidden shorts pocket, I was ready for the loop past the car--in case the run went slow, and more than 2 hours in length.

Brenda and I regaled each other for miles--her telling me about work, romance, and life in general, me blathering on about the ongoing battle to paint our apartment trim.

Q: Can trim possibly be a worse color than an aged white turned pale vanilla custard by the passage of time?
A: Yes. (As exhibited by our baby blue bedroom windows and floorboards.)

While running the flat miles of Judith's 5:30 a.m. route, I reflected on how we remember the people that others tell us about. I have very clear pictures of people in Jared's life that I have never met--take Jared's mentor Shelia, who is going to be honored next month at the college that Jared went to. Keep in mind, I have never met this woman--and Jared's never described her physical appearance to me. However, I can picture her in my mind--she is a woman who Jared describes as changing his life, turning him around, helping him to find a purpose, to find himself. I picture her as a lover of books (she IS the director of the University Library and Media Center, as well as a professor, after all), maybe with spectacles. I picture her as a woman of fierce intellect, with a keen gaze, but a soft heart. I hear her voice with an edge of wit, and touch of quirky humor. Do I know if any of this is actually no? Nope. (LATE ADDENDUM: Jared found this picture for me. Turns out she's blond, no glasses. See woman in middle. Note, however, that there are in fact books all about!)


Q: When my friend starts seeing someone, and mentions us running together a lot, what would be the easiest, most prevalent way that he remembers me?
A: The "girl who pooped in the pizzeria." (Note: Brenda didn't actually TELL him this. Apparently my reputation, via blogger, preceded me.)

The first 7-mile-ish loop completed, we fed the Monster's meter and carried on toward the Museum of Science, for the next 4+ miles. It was a beautiful day for running, and by now, even before 9:00 a.m. on a weekend, the people of Boston had begun venturing out on the Charles, walking, running, and shambling next to dogs.

Q: When you've decided you really want a dog, but you really can't afford one at the moment, and you aren't sure what breed you want, what do you do?
A: You make a list of breeds, plan to research them, and plan to window shop them for a year. You do not change your mind every time you see the next breed, and fall in love with it. (Sorry, Jared. I just like them all.)

Q: When you've discovered you have that sort of temperament, what's the worst that could happen?
A: You run across three beautiful specimens of their respective breeds, thereby throwing your inner self into turmoil.


11 miles, a fawn-colored Great Dane (ignore strange woman above--she came with the dog, compliments of Google images), a gorgeous, primarily black German Shepard, and one slightly chubby Burmese Mountain Dog later, I'd picked up Jared.

Q: What's the best course of action when your beloved immediately teases you about having raided his quarter stash?
A: Mentally damning his random morning errand to the car, smile sweetly, give him a kiss, and tell him you brought him a latte.