You Pretty Much Can't Run While Crying

This morning runner went for another evening run, this time before dinner.   The sun was hot.  And as usual on my evening runs (because I'm not an evening runner) I left the house without some, not all, essentials -- those essentials being:  chapstick and gum : )  But I did remember water and music (very important). Oh!  And I remembered my phone, as is evident by the beach pictures below.

I stayed in the moment most of my run, enjoyed the occassional breeze as I ran along the coast.  I circled the campground twice, the front row no-longer flooded.  The surf was loud and rough, kind of roaring.  And then my mind drifted to my car, the fact that it is totalled and that we have to go to the "Totalled" yard to clean out my stuff. ("Totalled" makes it sound worse than it is -- my car is merely 8 years old, and the damage is worth more than the car, therefore it is "totalled.") 

Anyway, my heart began racing as I ran through Doheny beach thinking about my car, and I grew weepy.  I can't face going to see it, but I can't ask my husband to do it for me -- I already ask him for so much.  ANYWAY, it is not good to cry while running.  In fact, you pretty much can't run while crying -- it takes your breath away.  So, I put a stop to that quickly and got back into the moment where I thought about nothing but my surroundings and my form, and I added some sprints in here and there.   

I had planned on ten miles today.  But after running through the wharf, I came across an old high school buddy (and by old, I don't mean HE'S old, because 45 is the new 30, right?).  We chatted some, as it is too much of a gift to pass up when you come across a friend on the run.  Then I ran a little more and powered up the big hill home.

Miles logged this evening: 8.3

I'm gonna miss my car.  We bought it for my baby, just before he was born (my middle boy).  We've driven it to Texas and back again and again.  I planned on driving the car until it died.  I guess it is dead : (