Lonesome Valley

You got to go to the Lonesome Valley

I added "Lonesome Valley" by Fairfield Four to my iPod run list. I am not sure why. I must have been feeling especially sorry for myself after the Track Run of Doom. I had forgotten it was on there until it kicked up today during the run. What kind of crazy person runs on vacation? Those married to someone in the grips of a Mania quickly turning into an Interest. Pity Me. I had posited to the Dear Husband that after the long drive to the Mecca of peace and no cooking (read- my mom in law's house - where no dust or soap scum dare encroach), I might be happy to run the next day. Ha ha.

You got to go there by yourself

We started out up a hill. A very non propitious beginning, but I consoled myself with the thought that we would be returning down it and the end of the run. Dear Husband was fussing with widget and iPod. We passed a guy with a golden retriever old enough that eyes and muzzle where white rimmed. It offered a look of patience mixed with mournful acceptance in my direction which a returned with heartfelt sincerity. "Yes, we are accompanying someone because we love them. Yes, the sunshine is nice. Yes, we'd rather enjoy it from a sunny porch with a smackeral of something to eat."

Nobody can go for you

Up and down and all around past many dog walkers. And I mean UP. Dear Husband kept trudging up hills the little engine who could. it seemed all the walking bits of the program were on flat roads and all the running bits were up hill. I felt like that old saw, "When I was a kid I had to walk to school uphill both ways in the snow." Well, I had to run uphill both ways on my vacation - on no coffee. Puff, puff, puff. Drag in Air. Dodge little chihuahua what looked like it was dying to taste my ankles.

We turned for the run back but did not retrace our steps. The promised downhill return slope did not seem like it would materialize. We went past playgrounds and basketball courts. The final run portion began on a steep-ish slope uphill of course. Dear Husband is in front, his glaring white legs chugging along. With mean satisfaction I could see from behind: the slowing pace and the jerk of his head that indicated he was pep talking himself. He got to the top of the hill, and with a quick glance at my struggles on the slope turned the corner behind a fence and kept going.

I got to the top of the hill turned and suddenly found I knew where I was. On the main road and out of the endless maze of the neighborhood cul de sacs, we were close to the end. With a quick adjustment to my music I pulled up Healing Rain and was settling in to the final stretch of run. Right as the music built and swelled, the ground finally sloped downward and I actually stretched out and ran the last minute of the last run portion. I looked like a real runner for 30 seconds.