Saturday, October 15, 2011

Getting Lost

Jenn and I went to the Taste of Cromwell last night. The Taste of Cromwell is an annual Children's Home fundraiser event. It was their 8th year and they did a great job! We met Pastor Scott Jones and his wife, Robin. Pastor Scott is our pastor from the Hilltop Covenant Church. The food and wine were superb and the company made it relaxing.
This is the last weekend of running before the 50 miles.
After I started running this morning, I looked at the horizon and noticed that the clouds were puffy and dark. The sun was just below the hills. The air was cool and there was a breeze. What a glorious morning. It reminded me of running on a winter morning in South Florida. 53 degrees was a pretty chilly morning down there.  When I was running along the beach, there was always a breeze so it made it feel chillier than it was.
Thinking of South Florida reminded me of the time I got lost while running. In a previous blog, I wrote about running aimlessly, without timing myself. Just remember the golden rule of running aimlessly: Know where you are in relation to home. Well, I guess I missed that class because I failed.
See, I had just moved to Florida and my family was in Connecticut. I went out for an evening run. It was supposed to be an easy, short three miles. It was 80 degrees out, but because it was short, I did not take water, money, or a phone.
Being routine and planned, I had a route in my head. I should have kept to it, but I was in a “not caring” mood.  As I was running past a road, I thought, “that neighborhood looks interesting.” So off I went down an...

uncharted road - uncharted for me anyway.
I came out of another end of the neighborhood. Don’t ask which end. You’ll see why. I was back on a main road, turned right, thinking I was heading back home. Wrong!
What I was doing was running further from home. I was several miles out when I realized I was not going in the right direction. I started running back. Where back was taking me, I didn’t know, I was just running. I asked someone in a park what direction University Drive was. In a confident manner, they pointed me to where I wanted to go. Well, they were wrong. It was getting dark now and I did not have money, water, family, or friends. I was getting worried at this point because the vultures were licking their chops. It was probably the same one flying overhead this summer (Runner's High and Bird Food, July 21st).
Finally, after a comedy of errors and more than an hour into my run and parched, I found University Drive and dragged myself home - beating off the vultures.
What was to be an easy three miles turned into nine. I usually pride myself on a sense of direction, but for some reason it was a handicap that day. If you’re wondering why I did not use the sun as a guide, I did not know whether I was east or west of University. Hey, I was never a Boy Scout so cut me some slack. I chuckle now when I think about what I had done. At least I can laugh at myself and did not become a vulture’s dinner.

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