When running becomes your mode of transportation

So I needed to log 18 miles this weekend as part of my training.   But my roommate also had a swim meet in Oak Park (a nearby suburb for you non-Chicagoans) and I had yet to make it to one of her meets.   How could I squeeze both in on a Sunday afternoon?   Then my boyfriend suggests, why don't you just run there? Hmm... an interesting idea.

Pinatas for Everyone!

I mapped it out and it was about 7 miles from my place to the meet, so about 14 miles roundtrip.   But men can be so protective sometimes.   The boyfriend and his friend thought that the route I was going to take was not necessarily safe.   So they convinced me to go a mile north to a safer street, which would actually be a little better since it would add some extra miles.   Plus, I got to run by this cool shop that sold only pinatas.   All kinds of pinatas.   The traditional ones, Winnie the Pooh, Dora the Explorer.  Name a pinata you want, I bet they have it.

By time I reached the high school where the swim meet was, I had apparently gone 9.6 miles.  I'm no math whiz, but I think that adds up to more than 18 miles round trip.   Hmm.. now what?   I decided to go watch the meet and worry about that detail later.   I've never been to a swim meet before, and it was actually pretty interesting to watch; people of all ages, shapes and sizes out there swimming away.   Plus, it was fun to see the roomie in action doing her thing.   I stayed for around an hour to watch a couple of her events, one of in which she beat a girl in a Wonder Woman swimsuit.   I think it's pretty brave to wear a Wonder Woman swimsuit since people might expect you to swim at Wonder Woman speeds.   After that, I had to leave before I was too tempted to just catch a ride home with her.   


Ernie's Birthplace Home

Now I'm back to my dilemma of this pesky extra mile.   I decide I'll just go the same route, and walk that last mile as a cool down.   So I took off running back the way I came.   And lo and behold, I was running past the birthplace home of Ernest Hemingway (which as usual I missed while running that way ealier).   For those of you who are unaware, Ernie grew up in Oak Park and the city continues to pay homage to one of their most famous residents with a Hemingway Museum, and a hotel featuring the Hemingway Bistro.


The Write Inn.... get it?

Again, as usual, like a total space cadet, I was lost in my thoughts and missed my turn on the run home.   So now I'm half a mile north of where I need to be, which means another half mile back south and this 18 mile run has now become a 20 mile run.   Well, I have no choice but to keep running.   I'm trying to do the math of these extra miles in my head to figure out where I'll be when I hit 18 so I can then have my boyfriend come rescue me and drive me those last 2 miles home.   I think it will get me pretty close to the park in the center of Logan Square.   So I call him to come fetch me. Coincidentally, this is the same place we took some photos during the Fitness magazine photo shoot when we first met.   We did some embarrassing running shots there, ones of him shooting us from behind while we looked back over our shoulders.   Total ass shot.   Maybe that's what piqued his interest?  Either way, I'm glad those shots did not make it into the magazine.

While I was waiting for my rescue, a funny exchange occurs between me and some kid.   He comes over to me while I'm stretching and says, "that kid over there in the camoflauge pants wants to know if he can have your number."   I look over at the "kid," turn back to his friend and say to him, "I'm pretty sure I'm too old for your friend."   He then says, "but he's 23."   I respond, "Well, I'm 34."   A brief silence, then he says "Oh" and runs away.   I guess when I was 23, I thought 34 was old too.   But thanks for the ego boost kid!