********

It’s Monday. Most dread today, even as a concept. I love it. Monday is my Saturday. And this Monday is particularly nice. I’ve been busy for far longer than I like. I don’t do well without chill days in my schedule. Today is my first chill day in a while. And I am fucking into it.

To celebrate my first chill day, I decide to go for a shake out run. It might be a good idea to just rest up today. I’ve had a massive week as far as running goes. My first fifty miler was just over a week ago and I was on a Ragnar Relay team up at the Crystal Mountain Resort over this past weekend. I should give my body a break.

But my heart wins out. A run is officially on the docket for today.

I get ready to go and head out the door. I’ve already decided the music I’m listening to so, while my watch syncs with the GPS signal, I cue up my jams. These rainy day vibes necessitate an aural journey into trip hop. I hit play; my watch buzzes. All set. I take off down the sidewalk.

********

I’m not quite a mile in, but already I notice some lateral pain in my left foot. This has been an issue for more than a week, since Squamish, really, so I’m not surprised to discover it on this run.

Still, less than a mile in? That’s a little early.

I contemplate returning home and switching my footwear to something more minimal. It feels like my foot needs to flex and stretch. Home is close enough to justify such a reset, but I’m really digging these tunes and the foot doesn’t feel all that crazy, obscenely bad or anything. I’ll just carry on for now.

If it weren’t for that left foot, I’d feel one hundred percent fantastic. I’m flying down a hill toward the waterfront. It’s a perfect temperature. The neighborhoods are quiet, lazy, as rainy days demand. In short, this is bliss.

By the time I reach the waterfront, my foot is beginning to feel better or, at least, feel less. The pain diminishes. The runner’s high kicks in. I fly down Ruston Way, light as a feather.

The weather is perfect. Exactly what I didn’t realize I needed in this moment. It’s grey, dismal, beautiful, a perfect backdrop for these trip hop jams. By the time I reach the end of Ruston Way, I’m feeling real nice. I decide to continue, onward, to Point Defiance. Up a hill and through residential neighborhoods finds me at the park entrance.

I weave my way along the road until the footpath forks in a different direction. From there, I work my way down to the sidewalk leading directly to Owen Beach. I run parallel to the water, still awestruck by this goddamn flawless weather, absolutely impeccable for this particular moment in time.

I finally bring my run to a halt once I’m all the way out past the paved area near Owen Beach. I’ve come to the end of my tunes around the same time I come to the end of the pavement. I’m not ready to give up my tunes just yet, though. I must stop to select a successor.

There’s a specific song I want to hear, but I don’t know what it is and the playlist where I know I can find it has been taken down, so I’m going to have to do a few minutes of digging in order to get it in my ears.

While I wait, I put on a short playlist with a similar overall vibe. Satisfied with my temporary selection, I begin my search.

Google is an incredible thing. All it takes is a few keywords and I find the song I want almost immediately: Ghostwriter by RJD2. I’m liking my filler tunes right now, so I opt to allow it to finish before I hit play on the corresponding album to the song I’m craving.

****

I start my run back up.

Fuck. I’ve made a mistake. I’m seven miles out and now, after stopping for that brief couple of minutes, my left foot is not pleased. It is notpleased, not remotely. And it is not shy about expressing this reality to me.

Uber comes to mind. I feel my phone in my pocket. The technological temptation to conjure a car to my current location is strong; I’ve clearly overcommitted.

But wait, I’ve not yet exhausted my options. There’s still a chance I can salvage this run.

I hobble to a flat area out of the way of other foot traffic walking up and down Owen Beach. I take my shoes off and stretch. I stretch every muscle I think might possibly help. I do this for about fifteen minutes or so. Nothing feels much better once I return my feet to my shoes.

I start down the pavement again. Yeah. It’s not happening. My left foot continues to berate me with a candid talking-to. I hear some choice language and a healthy dose of “I told you so.” My left foot gets louder and angrier with every step.

I stop stepping. Uber sounds better and better.

Even so, I’m not quite out of options. Not yet.

I remove my shoes, then my socks. I continue yet one more time, shoes in my hands, feet padding delicately across the sidewalk. My jaw drops, eyes widen. Even my left foot is stunned. The pain I expected to feel is a welcome absentee.

A smile slowly replaces shock as surprise gives way to satisfaction. I laugh. What an absurd primate I am.

********

I’ve got somewhere between six and seven miles to cover before I get home. Prior to this, the longest I’ve run without some form of footwear is a mere four miles. The sense of dread and futility occupying my mind just moments ago is replaced by curiosity. How far can I make it before I need to summon an Uber?

I exit Point Defiance, still feeling great. I soar down Ruston Way, still feeling lovely. I depart the waterfront for the uphill homestretch, I’m still feeling fantastic.

I reach the midpoint of the climb. Okay. My feet are beginning to feel understandably sore. Concrete is not forgiving. But my left foot still doesn’t hurt the way it did before I shed my shoes.

I crest the hill and it’s only now that I would rather be sitting than running. I’m close enough at this point, though, that all thought of Uber has vacated any portion of my conscious thought.

With a mile left, I confidently conclude I’m going to make it home on my own strength. Disaster has not foiled me. A crisis was not simply averted, but exploited. I am happy the run is ending, but I don’t regret a single moment of this run by a long shot. How else would I have learned I can rely on my own two feet more than I realized?

As I hit stop on my watch, with two shoes in my hand instead of on my feet, I arrive at my front door and breathe a satisfied sigh of relief.

I laugh. What I just did was ridiculous.

I would do it again in a heartbeat.