I pulled a Forrest Gump today. I just kept running and running.
First I set out in the opposite direction that I usually go. I headed toward the ball park, made a loop around it and started heading back. At the Ferry Building there were throngs setting up for the Farmer’s Market. I ran past, glanced up at the clock-tower and pressed on.
I thought: “Maybe I’ll turn around at Pier 39 where the flags wave and the old Chinese women are doing calisthenics by the water.”
But as I approached this destination two things happened.
First, my iShuffle started playing Royksopp’s “Alpha Male”. The entire track is an 8 minute crescendo and acceleration. My feet perked up.
Secondly, there on the horizon a large cone-shaped object began to emerge. An object that was not a part of the usual landscape. Something new. And big.
A Christmas tree. Three stories tall maybe. Smack dab in the middle of Pier 39.
So what did I do? I just kept running. I ran to the tree and then past it. It sparkled and towered and smiled.
So I ran past the crab pots and the sourdough rolls and the steaming clam chowders and I went all the way to Aquatic Park. And then I turned around.
When I got back to the gym I’d been running for an hour. I just google-pedometered (check it out if you haven’t – it’s rad!) the route and it totals out at 7 miles.
7 miles. On my gimpy-assed, “unfixable”, bony old foot.
Sweet Hallelujah if that ain’t reason for givin’ thanks then I don’t know what is.
Last year I wrote that I was thankful for healing, however slow. This year I’m thankful for “healed”.