More Lucky Me!
The Yogi B version might be "coincidental serendipity" or some other memorably comic misaprop. I'm going to settle for Serendipity. (But, aside, the mere syllabification also brings to mind the sorely missed Mr. Zevon's title "Sentimental Hygiene"!)
Last Thursday PM late, inspired by what I do not know (and yes that has more than one accurate implication in this case - but it was certainly not the result of a lot of cerebral processing), I got the wild idea it was time to renew my running vows and utilize the lunch hour on Friday for some remedial respiratory work.
In the cold light of day (or, frankly, later, when I remembered my vow), it didn't seem like nearly as brilliant an idea, somehow. I waffled and dodged, groped for excuses, but eventually decided my lizard brain must be indulged.
It actually wasn't as bad as I had expected, aside from the difficulty after months of settling for walking of being certain I had all the requisite gear and none of the excess (i.e., elevator card critical, wallet to be sequestered, towel, jockstrap, handkerchief, and socks in no way optional). There were some stretches where I ambled, and some where I walked, but I made good use of all the uphill stretches and more than held my own against a couple of folks doing Hard Time on the Serious Stairs that climb a couple hundred feet up the west side of Capitol Hill - and this was at the far end of my (okay, modest) circuit. Not to say I ran all the way up those stairs, but I kept to my stair-skipping routine and took no prisoners. Of course I had to suppress urge to vomit at the top! Ah bliss.
I'd purposely chosen route to baby myself towards the end, with a general downward grade back to the office. So I was still able to fake a bit of a trot as I traversed the late lunch hour shopping throng (where DO these people come from?) in downtown. That's when I spotted an unmistakeable red-head coming towards me, absorbed in checking out which store was which. It was unquestionably my daughter's college roomie, by now a dear friend of the family. This was a coincidence of the highest order, one that would not have been possible, I'd argue, had I not given into my inner Jim Morrison. Kelly was in town from Southern Cal for a Veterinarian convention, and on a break, late enough that had I not been running I would have been hunkered down in the office. It was terrific to encounter her, she was more than gracious in hugging a slimy, sweaty Neanderthal from way back, and a kick I think for both of us.
Yet another prod to be alert for those strange and wild urges, submit to instinct or random provocation, and (perhaps most importantly) keep your head up, your mind on your driving and your hands on the wheel, and be aware of your surroundings.
Otherwise I might stumble into you when we least expect it.
Last Thursday PM late, inspired by what I do not know (and yes that has more than one accurate implication in this case - but it was certainly not the result of a lot of cerebral processing), I got the wild idea it was time to renew my running vows and utilize the lunch hour on Friday for some remedial respiratory work.
In the cold light of day (or, frankly, later, when I remembered my vow), it didn't seem like nearly as brilliant an idea, somehow. I waffled and dodged, groped for excuses, but eventually decided my lizard brain must be indulged.
It actually wasn't as bad as I had expected, aside from the difficulty after months of settling for walking of being certain I had all the requisite gear and none of the excess (i.e., elevator card critical, wallet to be sequestered, towel, jockstrap, handkerchief, and socks in no way optional). There were some stretches where I ambled, and some where I walked, but I made good use of all the uphill stretches and more than held my own against a couple of folks doing Hard Time on the Serious Stairs that climb a couple hundred feet up the west side of Capitol Hill - and this was at the far end of my (okay, modest) circuit. Not to say I ran all the way up those stairs, but I kept to my stair-skipping routine and took no prisoners. Of course I had to suppress urge to vomit at the top! Ah bliss.
I'd purposely chosen route to baby myself towards the end, with a general downward grade back to the office. So I was still able to fake a bit of a trot as I traversed the late lunch hour shopping throng (where DO these people come from?) in downtown. That's when I spotted an unmistakeable red-head coming towards me, absorbed in checking out which store was which. It was unquestionably my daughter's college roomie, by now a dear friend of the family. This was a coincidence of the highest order, one that would not have been possible, I'd argue, had I not given into my inner Jim Morrison. Kelly was in town from Southern Cal for a Veterinarian convention, and on a break, late enough that had I not been running I would have been hunkered down in the office. It was terrific to encounter her, she was more than gracious in hugging a slimy, sweaty Neanderthal from way back, and a kick I think for both of us.
Yet another prod to be alert for those strange and wild urges, submit to instinct or random provocation, and (perhaps most importantly) keep your head up, your mind on your driving and your hands on the wheel, and be aware of your surroundings.
Otherwise I might stumble into you when we least expect it.
posted by Sir Gumbo at 9:33 PM
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