Night Moves

Just because this is a light week, doesn't mean I'm loafing. Tuesday, I joined some lovely ladies for all-you-can-eat spaghetti at a local Italian club. Six bucks got you spaghetti, two meatballs, bread, salad and spumoni. Delish. Another I don't know how much got us a large carafe of red wine. I spent $8, but I think I may have paid for the whole thing. This is what happens when you hand off your money. I managed to get five glasses.

I was itching all day for a run, but that spaghetti weighed me down. The three of us walked KP's dog afterward and went grocery shopping. How homemaker-ish, I know. By the end of that, it was two hours after dinner, about 9:30. I was still pasta heavy, but I was feeling the itch again. I said goodbye to the ladies and headed home, put on my gear and went for a night run.

"Ain't it funny how the night moves /
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose"
--Bob Seger

Maybe I was feeling paranoid about running around the city in the dark. Maybe I wanted to get back home in time for Seinfeld reruns. Maybe I was just feeling good. But it's the fastest I've run that particular route. The three-mile loop is impossibly all uphill. The last mile and a half covers one of the hardest parts (so I'm told) of the Akron Marathon, up a brutal hill that comes right before mile 22.

It's been way hot around these parts, but the night was pleasant. My speed was far from my fastest training pace, but my effort was strong throughout while battling a side stitch I couldn't ditch as I belched wine breath. Working on our night moves ...