On the road, I could barely believe my luck. Within the first mile, I'd stripped down to a thermal top and my shorts, and was chugging merrily along, waving and nodding at the runners in my path. I happily cruised along, slipping and sliding on the occasional icy patch, running down the Charles River, then circling it near Elliott Bridge, before heading towards Boston.
At 7 miles in, on the corner of Dartmouth and Stuart, I met Brenda, fresh out of her warmup on the arc trainer, and ready for 7 miles as a duo. After realizing neither of us had mapped a route (It's so sunny! What a gorgeous day! Where should we run? Didn't you map a route? No, didn't you?), we headed towards an old favorite, our 5:00 a.m. Thursday route from last year's training season.
The miles went quickly and easily, and were filled with chatter of work, life, love, and the pursuit of happiness. Seven miles later, we parted ways, again at Dartmouth and Stuart, and I started my 4-mile trek home. The last leg was uneventful, if its unsurprisingly tough self. I was more than happy to make it to my allotted stopping point, and walk the last two blocks home for the planned cooldown.
Later that week, a friend mentioned to me an argument she'd recently had with some other friends--an argument stemming from her commentary about how friends often move and in out of our lives. She is, of course, right. The conversation got me thinking about my friends--about the friends from high school, the friends from college, the friends from two years ago, the friends of today. I feel very fortunate in my friends, to be honest--who are made up of an ecletic mix of personalities. There are the running friends, the ex-roommates, the friends I can sing loudly in the car with, the literary friends, the listening friends, the friends who always have a funny story to share.
But the friend mentioned earlier was also right--her comments centered on how its important to understand that each of our friends brings something different to our lives, and at different times of our lives what that is can become more, or less, important. This is most visible when great life changes occur--when we go into or exit school, when we pair up with someone, when we have our first child. My friend's point was that it's OK, and natural, for friends to come and go in our lives, and that we can't help but do the same with them.
One of the reasons this struck me running was that I've been lucky the past several years since I started running to never be short of a friend to run with. With training season underway, I've been logging a lot of my long run marathon miles with Brenda, and with the Hyannis Half Marathon on 2/22, I've logged most of the rest with my other half. But when I first started running, it was mostly just Kate and I--though we slowly converted many of other friends over time. Next month, though, Kate will be leaving our dirty water, and heading for the Big Apple, as she and her husband head out to start new jobs and be closer to family.
Look for her to be logging some fabulous miles in Central Park, happy pup Bodhi in tow...
At 7 miles in, on the corner of Dartmouth and Stuart, I met Brenda, fresh out of her warmup on the arc trainer, and ready for 7 miles as a duo. After realizing neither of us had mapped a route (It's so sunny! What a gorgeous day! Where should we run? Didn't you map a route? No, didn't you?), we headed towards an old favorite, our 5:00 a.m. Thursday route from last year's training season.
The miles went quickly and easily, and were filled with chatter of work, life, love, and the pursuit of happiness. Seven miles later, we parted ways, again at Dartmouth and Stuart, and I started my 4-mile trek home. The last leg was uneventful, if its unsurprisingly tough self. I was more than happy to make it to my allotted stopping point, and walk the last two blocks home for the planned cooldown.
Later that week, a friend mentioned to me an argument she'd recently had with some other friends--an argument stemming from her commentary about how friends often move and in out of our lives. She is, of course, right. The conversation got me thinking about my friends--about the friends from high school, the friends from college, the friends from two years ago, the friends of today. I feel very fortunate in my friends, to be honest--who are made up of an ecletic mix of personalities. There are the running friends, the ex-roommates, the friends I can sing loudly in the car with, the literary friends, the listening friends, the friends who always have a funny story to share.
But the friend mentioned earlier was also right--her comments centered on how its important to understand that each of our friends brings something different to our lives, and at different times of our lives what that is can become more, or less, important. This is most visible when great life changes occur--when we go into or exit school, when we pair up with someone, when we have our first child. My friend's point was that it's OK, and natural, for friends to come and go in our lives, and that we can't help but do the same with them.
One of the reasons this struck me running was that I've been lucky the past several years since I started running to never be short of a friend to run with. With training season underway, I've been logging a lot of my long run marathon miles with Brenda, and with the Hyannis Half Marathon on 2/22, I've logged most of the rest with my other half. But when I first started running, it was mostly just Kate and I--though we slowly converted many of other friends over time. Next month, though, Kate will be leaving our dirty water, and heading for the Big Apple, as she and her husband head out to start new jobs and be closer to family.
Look for her to be logging some fabulous miles in Central Park, happy pup Bodhi in tow...
1 comment:
Aww you will always be my first running buddy and I look forward to many guest appearances on each of our parts - I'll be sure to steer you far from that pizza shop in the Upper East Side though! Much Love
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