Ritual is a big part of life. The repetition of some beneficial act of significance is a weapon against the evil spirits of the unknown. Maybe running, paddling, and now swimming is my rosary or worry beads.
As a ritual, I have run to Aunt Madelynne’s holiday parties. I’ve run to her house for every party since I started running. In fact there’s only one party where I didn’t make the 7+ miles on foot. And I did ride my bike there instead, and by some mysterious circumstance, I broke my foot playing rugby with the Buds. So I would take that as bad mojo.
I headed out at seven PM into the darkness on foot to Madelynne’s house. I tried switching sides of the road every 10 minutes or so. It was hard to stay on one side or the other in the dark as car’s kept coming every five minutes. County Road 374 is one of my favorites as it runs parallel to Red Arrow Highway. It is very unbusy, lined with trees, and vineyards. Making time in the dark, taking deep breaths I could smell grapes heavily on the air. A mist of rain interimittently came sprinkling down. Any run over an hour in those conditions along that pulls a few pins out of the voodoo doll.
7+ Miles 57:12