"This is why we run!" Kristin says, as wind-chimes ring, sunlight turns clouds orange and treetops yellow-green, dogs bark, hamstrings twinge, and icy sidewalks send us down the middle of neighborhood streets. "All the senses!" We meander through Pimmit Hills, share sad news of a neighborhood 6-year-old in the hospital after a tragic sledding accident, and cheer for the Langley High School basketball team's recent winning streak.
"Are you actually going to eat that?" Kerry and Kristin ask in mock-horror, when I pick up a silver packet from the pavement. "Hmmmm ... it feels like a granola bar," I say, "and it seems like it's still sealed." (And yes, it turns out later that is what it is — and it tastes great!) Kerry branches off at 6+ miles, and "a couple more" for Kristin and me turns into just over 10 total. Runkeeper records route, with a trackfile map that looks like a child's drawing of a doggie or a horsie.
^z - 2015-02-20