Losing myself in thought on a 10-miler

After my mental struggles during Saturday’s race, I didn’t know what to expect during my 10 mile run Sunday morning.

I had no idea if I’d run the whole way; if I’d run for three miles, walk for a mile … etc; if I’d feel enough physical strength to tackle the hills. I didn’t even know if I wanted to run.

As far as I was concerned, it was enough of an accomplishment to put on my (still damp) sneakers and head out the door at 7am.

As I was standing on the front porch, contemplating the route for the day, I made a decision – I would not wear my watch. There wasn’t a whole lot of thinking that went into this decision. I just didn’t feel like routing around the back seat of my truck looking for it. I knew that I’d probably be running for about 90 minutes. It was exactly 7am. If I made it home on/around 8:30 that was good enough for me.

With that simple decision, I had the best run of the past 2 months.

I didn’t think about minutes or splits. I didn’t think about the next milestone.

Instead, I thought about the guys out golfing in Willowbend. I laughed to myself how they were all dressed alike – a rainbow of polo shirts and khaki shorts … the official dress code of the male weekend golfer.

I thought about the older guy pulling into the golf course with his maroon Ferrari. I wondered how he got the money to afford it. Was he an investment banker? Movie producer? Was it old money or new? Was he married? What kind of car did his wife drive? Where did he live the rest of the year? Did he keep the Ferrari in a garage on the Cape?  What other cars were in his garage?  How did he perceive himself behind the wheel of that car?  How did he think people perceived him?  If I had the money, would I spend it on a Ferrari?  What kind of car would I have if money wasn’t a factor?

Before I knew it, I was running past the Santuit River. My thoughts on Mr. Ferrari carried me through a tough hill and about a mile of road.

A few minutes later, I ran into two women out walking. Well, one was walking. The other was shuffling up a hill, complaining about how tired she was.  Why was she tired?  Was she on vacation?  Did she have too much to drink last night?  Was it too early for her to be out exercising? Did the idea of an early morning walk sound a whole lot better after 3 glasses of wine last night than it did this morning when the alarm went off? Were these two women friends?  Sisters? Neighbors?  Did they live on Cape?

Before I could create an entire backstory for Ms. Shuffle complete w/ the bars she visited last night, the drinks she ordered and the vacationing men she flirted with, I was rounding the bend to Loop Beach – my favorite part of any run in Cotuit.   This is always the point where I stop, stretch and enjoy the view.   However, today was different.  I admired the beach (the tide was coming in), but kept right on running – up one of the steepest hills on this run.  I was feeling great.

I didn’t come across any more people worthy of a new imagined reality, but I did enjoy time with my own thoughts.  I didn’t solve any problems.  I didn’t unravel any riddles.  I didn’t even think about the run I was doing.  I let my mind wander:

- Why did I struggle so much in the race yesterday?

- Why are those dolphin stickers warning against dumping only near the two storm drains on Putnam across from Old Shore?

- There’s the spot where I saw the coyote last week.  I wonder where he lives?  Does he have a family?  Why was he alone?  Every other time I’ve seen a coyote on Cape, there were @ least two of them together.  I don’t know if they’re pack animals, but based on my experiences w/ them, they are.

- How can I be a better father?  I feel like I haven’t been spending enough time with the kids recently.

- Why is that pile of mulch still sitting in our front yard?

Around the time I was meditating on the falling home prices on the Cape, I was gliding across the Stop & Shop parking lot – 1/2 mile from home.

I finished my run @ Steve & Mary’s corner.  As I was walking up the driveway, Scooter was the first one to greet me, followed by Keely and Colin squealing my name – wanting to hug my leg, but knowing they’d be covered in sweat if they did.

We all sat down together on the front porch. Keely on my right.  Colin on my left.  I had a glass of orange juice in one hand, a tennis ball for Scooter in the other.  I called to Michelle to ask her what time it was … 8:31am.