TALES FROM THE TRAIL (AND SOMETIMES THE ROAD TOO)

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Thursday, August 1, 2013

Days Gone Past

Tuesday, my oldest son and I hopped on a bus and took it to Newport Beach.  He wanted to see the WWII bunker that I ran to on Monday.  Rather than hike (or run) the 10 mile round trip route to the bunker, where the parking is free, I decided we’d hike from the park’s main entrance.  This is why the bus: parking at the park’s entrance is $15.00.  The bus is $2, or $5 for a day pass.  Plus the bus is way fun.

We hiked up B.F.I. a three mile round trip.  My son added some initials to lengthen the trail’s name to a much longer name that is too profane to mention here.  We reached the bunker, hiked back and took the bus headed south.  We disembarked in Laguna Beach for lunch, then hiked the highway to the next bus stop home. 

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By the time we reached home (5PM), I was so fatigued, I took a nap and did not run.  Therefore, the running streak was finished.  My fitness streak however (from Fitness Streakers on facebook) remained intact.  The rules to that group page are to run, walk, hike, bike or treadmill at least one mile a day. 

A two-day knee ache stayed with me Wednesday, but wanting to keep up the fitness streak, I pulled on a knee brace.  Then I went for a 1.17 mile run around the neighborhood. 

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Suddenly Wednesday night I decided to call a friend from our boys’ music school.  It was then I found that our mutual friend had died in hospice.  I went to bed Wednesday night broken hearted.  Even though I felt so fortunate that our lives’ paths crossed, I was terribly sad.  I’m still sad.  And I’m still fortunate.  Tommy was a wonderful, eccentric, quirky guy.  He was a great musician, an unbelievably awesome musican.  He taught my son to be a great musician.   

I slept terribly Wednesday night, and I would have rather stayed in bed all of Thursday.  But I couldn’t do that to my family. 

I also didn’t want to run.  I really didn’t give a hoot about my fitness streak.  Deep down though, I knew that I had to run.  I didn’t think a run would do anything magical.  But I did know it would allow me to escape.  A run would allow me to forget and live only in the moment.  And that is just what I did for five miles in the coastal hills above Laguna Beach.  I ran.

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2 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry about your friend. He certainly left his legacy with you and your son. Running is always a magical cure...for anything. I would love to see that bunker myself.

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    1. Thanks Johann. He most certainly did. I could not help but post Tommy's passing. Looks like I'm going back to the bunker again tomorrow. I'm now back to my WWII reading (which for many years was mainly the only topic I read). Funny how running has brought me back to it.

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