My friend Eevi is doing an awesome job of training for a marathon, and it reminded me of my younger days when I used to run/train seriously. I've just never gotten back into the groove after having kids, which makes Eevi's dedication all the more admirable to me.
I got to thinking about the weird times I went running when it would have been more sane to not go. We went on a family vacation to Alaska when I was 14 and even though we were on the road in an RV or in strange, unfamiliar surroundings or going from place to place in ferries, I squeezed in a run almost every day. I went on some great runs in Denali National Park, and around town in Skagway. That's kind of normal. But I also remember one night when we pulled off the side of some random highway in Alaska to sleep for the night and I "went on a run" (I use the term loosely) by doing laps around the RV on the gravel shoulder of the road.
I remember going running on a high school track in Boise, Idaho really late at night in freezing temperatures, for some reason.
I also used to go running more than once a day, for some reason.
My best, weirdest run was when I was maybe 16 or 17 and for some reason, I decided to go running at 11 o'clock at night. I had good parents, so of course they did not let me go alone. As a compromise (bless my parents), my dad said I could go on a run and he would circle around the neighborhood in the car to make sure I was OK. Picture it: a young woman running late at night followed at low, creepy speed by a dark car driven by an older man. At one point, a lady driving by us saw me and immediately stopped, rolled down her window, and yelled over in a genuinely concerned voice, "Are you OK??" I told her the guy following me was my dad and she was so relieved. I'm sure it was still kind of weird, though.
Running beyond all reason here, now, would mean going out in 100+-degree temperatures and unbearable humidity. I'm looking forward to being in the US next month so I can go on my first summertime run in two years.
