Running away from home

As I look back on my year of running, some of my fondest memories were of running away from home. No, not fleeing the confines of Stately Wasser Manor, but rather enjoying a nice run while traveling for work.

When I'm traveling for work, I am completely away from my normal life. When I get up in the morning, I don't have a cup of coffee with Steve, make Jack his morning strawberry milk, and get him ready for school. Instead, I wake up and pretty much get to work, then do the same all day, then at night until I decide to get to sleep.

I forget that other people are not existing out of time like I am. I'll sit at the desk, impatiently wondering why no one has answered my emails, only to remember that it's only 8:00, most people have not been working for the past hour and a half, and that they are, in fact, trying to get ready for work.

I have learned that when I'm away from home, I always need to bring my running shoes and I always need to go for a run.

Those early morning jaunts have been terrific adventures. I wandered through a neighborhood in Charlotte, lined by honeysuckle bushes, and two little girls waiting for the school bus ran with me for a little while. I found trails around beautiful frozen lakes outside Minneapolis. In San Antonio, I zipped along the cobblestone paths of River Walk and watched the sun rise at the Alamo. I spent another morning with Lake Michigan to one side, the skyline of Chicago looming large in front of me. My favorite travel run was in Seattle, where I ran through memories of the summer I lived there with Steve, the summer we fell in love.

Running while on the road connects me with the city where I'm staying in a way that eating breakfast at the hotel and going to and from whatever project I'm working on does not. More importantly, it keeps me connected to who I am. When I'm away from home, I have to keep running.