In the zombie world, I was preparing for a run out to a nearby university for medical supplies. In reality, I was going to try and drop a package in a UPS drop box: a slim piece of cardboard containing a DVD with a broken case. I had mapped out two possible drop boxes, one in a building two blocks from my house, the other in a courtyard about a mile away.
I’d tried to send the damn package the night before, and took it out to the Reservoir MBTA stop by foot, to try and bump up my Fitbit‘s step count for the day. The building was already closed and locked, and the box nowhere to be found, so I brought it home and hoped for the best. Thus, the backup location.
The drop was smooth, I was in and out, and on the road again. Heading back to the same hills of Commonwealth Avenue I had run last week. Of course, with my new starting point, I soon found myself taking the steepest angle of the hill on which my block rests. I took some solace in the fact that I was getting it over with early, at the very least.
As I kept on with the mission, learning more about the university and the two characters on my radio, I was noting that I was slowing down some. A few blocks from the graveyard by Boston College, I just put on a burst of speed and kept going. I felt good, in fact, I felt a little like going slow was dragging me down some.
I rounded the corner on the far side of the graveyard–glad the zombie apocalypse was more in my head than in reality–and decided to cut through the BC campus and head back from there. I wanted to keep going, but also to explore a little, I decided.
Past some only vaguely familiar buildings, I have got a rough notion of the campus, from my stint as a local journalist. Another quarter mile or so, and I was starting to recognize my surroundings. I was coming up on the far side of the Chestnut Hill Reservoir. It was dark, and I could see the street lights of Beacon Street reflecting off the water in the pond. It was pretty, and it was nice to be coming back to a place I felt at home.
The walking path was covered in a similar thin sheet of ice to many of the un-shoveled sidewalks. As I had passed some houses on Comm Ave which had not cleared their paths (which, I believe, is a finable offense under some kind of bylaw), I had been flipping those houses bird and feeling justified–I was not looking forward to slipping on an icy hill and falling. However, on the Reservoir, with no one to specifically, I was zen; it was more about being back in my running home.
And, about my energy running out. I was starting to feel tired, and starting to feel a small cramp forming in my left leg. I made it to the sidewalk by the Metro Waterworks Museum, and started walking. That, according to the app’s counter, was about 2.5 miles. My legs felt again like each kneecap had been replaced with Slinky. I was more tired than I had been on the treadmill–which I later realized was likely due to going up and down some hills early on.
I felt good, accomplished, and like I was stepping up my game–slowly–from when I had started running at the reservoir a few months ago.
Shirt of the Day: BARCC Walk for Change 2013. (Not a nerdy shirt, but a cause I strongly support).
Today’s Odd Pickup: Nothing strange. Although I am wondering who left behind a pair of trousers for me to find…
- Unsure-Footed Runner (unsurerunner.wordpress.com)
- Feels Good to Be on a Road Again (unsurerunner.wordpress.com)
- The Unsure Walker, Less Sure Runner (unsurerunner.wordpress.com)
- Body By the Undead (unsurerunner.wordpress.com)