Add Three More Days To My Streak

Day 16: Wednesday; I didn’t get out for a run until after the sun had already set.  For the first time that I can remember, I wished for reflective wear as I ran down Highway One.  For a moment I considered wearing my headlamp.  But vanity got the best of me, and I decided on a light colored shirt instead (light blue).  Okay, so I quickly ran off the streets, into the wharf and marina where cars cannot venture.  Miles run:  3

Day 17:  Thursday, I ran in Whiting Ranch which is in the foothills of the Santa Ana Mountains (Saddleback Mountains).  I avoid Whiting Ranch because that’s the location that most of the cougar activity I hear about comes from.  A cyclist was killed there some years back by a cougar.  He was reportedly stooped down fixing his bike.  A couple days later, that same cougar dragged off a woman.  She survived.  Fast forward some years -- just last week, a cougar was shot for acting aggressively and “stalking” a family.  Needless to say, being a lone runner, this is a place I avoid (call me stupid, because there’s cougars other places that I run, this particular area though seems to have the most reported activity.)

Thursday however, I ran with a girlfriend whom I have haven’t run with in a few years.  Victoria contacted me early in the week, and after a short deliberation, we decided upon Whiting Ranch.  I printed up a map the night prior.  She read it while we ran (because I run without my reading glasses), and we ran through lovely, green wooded areas for eight miles.  She kicked my butt, needless to say.  I’m so used to lollygagging about the wilderness without needing to keep up with another runner.  It was a wonderful run, and Victoria kept me on my toes no doubt!

Whiting Ranch:

Day 18: 1.35 miles: Friday; I am so wiped out from many days and evenings of work (both teaching adults and substitute teaching children), that it took all that I had to run out the door and put in the minimum.  I ran 1.35 miles into town.  My feet dragged.  Back at home, I did ten burpees in the kitchen.  Then feeling badly for struggling so much for such a little load, I took in fifty squats.  Call me crazy.  Cuz I am.