Don't you hate it when people drone on and on about their workouts?

Him: I'm too lazy to run. I just lift.
Me: I'm too lazy to lift. I just run.



I knew I was coming back to campus today so I left all my stuff on my desk and went to the ARC. I changed in the parking lot. No, not my clothes! I just took off my glasses and put in my contact lenses. It took a few seconds, but that completely woke me up, unlike the coffee I'd been drinking all day. After changing (in the locker room like a normal human being) I headed out toward the Olive trees, thinking, "OK, 20 minutes, then lift." When my watch said 10:00 I realized I wasn't ready to turn around (or lift, for that matter) and thought that it might be a good day to follow the green arrows to the mysterious branch of the Davis Bike Loop that lies across Russell Avenue. Although I hate having to cross busy streets during a jog, it wasn't too bad. After a few minutes, the apartment buildings were replaced by cute little wooden houses with natural landscaping. The path winds through a residential area there, and twists with the land, often coming right up to the yards. Looking closer, I saw that it was a housing development, a charming one, certainly, but a planned community all the same. Even the recycling bins were aesthetically pleasing. I glanced up at a street sign in case I got lost on the way back. I looked at its cross street sign. The names seemed familiar. Literary. After a few more I realized the streets took their names from the Tolkien novelística. Cute, but weird. But very Davis. Everything was so...well-kept community. I jogged around women in pastel yoga outfits and several yuppie-granola dads walking impressively well-behaved dogs and appallingly ill-behaved children. I was struck how, from the songs pouring out of my shuffle to my baggy purple wife-beater to my cut off, fraying sweats, nothing about me matched the place! I finally came to a gate at 19 minutes, passed through it and found myself at another intersection of two busy streets. I was gratified to see an abandoned shopping cart on each corner and one of those STOP...Running Red Lights signs on the covered bus stop. Comforting and home-like. Next time I'll stick to the path that runs along the empty field and the olive grove. I never feel like I want to mock that path that's so familiar. I always see someone I know. As I neared the ARC, at the exact moment my Shuffle cued up the Pixies' "Here Comes Your Man," Manuel rode toward me on his bike. He looked so surprised that I wished that instead of a wristwatch I were wearing a Flava-Flav stopwatch around my neck so he could see how long I'd been going. I got back to the ARC 48 minutes after I'd left it and before lifting (yay!) went immediately into the conveniently located cyberlounge to e-mail myself the blogideas knocked loose by the run. I'll post them at some future date.