Running While Happy

OK, I had my whine fest. Now let's get a little more positive. Usually I am.

Tuesday I stayed with Mom instead of my normal night of Wednesday. My sister is out of town and things have to change when she's gone.

I arrived at Mom's around 6:00 pm, got her supper, and administered her meds. 

"Are you going running?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just a bit."

So I slipped out the door and headed west, crossed Park Avenue, and shuffled onto Medallion Street. From there, I turned west again onto John Pittman Drive where I could be alone and have stretches of open road. I saw the late afternoon orange above the horizon as night's victory over day was close but not yet complete. Wow. Thank you, God.

A lot of good things happen when I run. This one went from blah to nice. That's rare for running but happens a lot when I swim. Usually, for me at least, every run is on a slow downward trajectory. If it starts bad it only gets worse. But Tuesday night, I slowly warmed up and both Mo and Jo found me out there in the dark and joined the effort.

For about an hour, I had the diligently sought after sense of freedom, that feeling I love so much and seek and work for like the crews on Gold Rush who work furiously going after that yellow stuff. Also I noticed the absence of knee discomfort that has plagued me of late. Thank you, God. I turned off John Pittman, shuffled all the way back to the frontage road along Highway 82 and then went back to John Pittman on another side street.

Then I had my solitude shattered, but in a good way.

"Hey Dr. Hodge," someone yelled from a passing car. I love that.

It's kind of the opposite of what I wrote about in "Running While Male." Those kind of shout outs make me feel . . . words fail me here. The worn out adjective "good" doesn't seem adequate. I like those incidents for a number of reasons some of which I list below

• I love that title that I worked for years and years and years to earn.
• I am happy that someone, a current or former student, recognizes me.
• I find it satisfying that I feel connected to the community and someone in the community feels connected to me.
• I am delighted that somebody out there cares enough to speak.

These encounters give me an inner glow like that evening orange in the sky that doesn't fade quickly but lingers and lightens the dark places of my mind.

Sometimes I have other kinds of encounters out there in the night. When I see a cat I always speak. Often they run; more often they give me a long look; occasionally, I receive a meow and I've even had one follow for a few steps. Once, a stranger cat stepped out into the street and allowed me to pet her. Thank you, cat.

Of late I have been bumping into a pretty wide array of wildlife. I see raccoons. I have seen a gray fox, in town, twice. There is even a shift of owls that works the neighborhood I live in. I hear their hoots. I hear their wings flap. One bright moon-lit night a large shadow passed overhead engulfing me first startling then delighting me.

I even saw a smart-looking terrier trotting north on Grand Boulevard one night like he had a purpose, like he knew where he was going. Later that same night, I saw him on Monroe Avenue, still trotting along like he had an appointment. I never knew what he was doing out alone or if he arrived at his destination on time.

Back to Tuesday night. It happened two more times. Two other people in cars passed and yelled, "Hey Dr. Hodge." 

That's running while happy.

That's why I keep going back out.

That covers a multitude of frights and offenses. 

Thank you, God.