My Time on the Run

Life is full—very full. Our oldest daughter is home for the summer, already getting work hours at the pool, already planning some house-sitting, already registered for summer classes at a nearby community college. Our younger daughter is finishing homeschool classes, and will be teaching and lifeguarding at the pool this summer, too. Plus taking drivers’ education and assisting with our church’s Vacation Bible School coming up end of July. So while I have to plan my running around work and school and making sure there are vehicles taking people places as needed, I definitely plan my running!

Running is my time. I really like the long runs – several hours, just me and my thoughts. Sometimes the mid-week runs are long runs, because of how full weekends seem to get. Sometimes (this is Oregon, after all) my long run is a wet one, even in June. But now the wet is OK – I can get soaked, and still be warm enough with shorts and T-shirt, and not need the Tyvek jacket or rain poncho like in winter. Sometimes the weather is hot from the beginning, so I have to stay flexible to allow more walk breaks, or to reroute myself for shade spots on the different roads.

It is amazing how much thinking gets done – thinking about friends and family and neighbors. Thinking about the next week’s schedule. Thinking about one of the kids in my swim classes, and how to give him confidence. Thinking about races coming up, and how to juggle the long runs with the shorter races. Thinking about how to juggle the laundry for the coming week. Thinking about when to get the next pair of running shoes before Portland Marathon. All kinds of thoughts. Meantime, I’m waving to all the cars that go by (hey, it’s friendly and it’s safe—I want them to see me). I’m talking to all the dogs and horses and sheep out there, and loving the horses that come to their fences to see me. Then sometimes the thinking gets interrupted…

A couple weekends ago, I was doing an out-and-back on one of my rural roads. Just got turned around, and there was a huge, black column of smoke. I could tell it was a structure, but with orchards and a hill in the way, couldn’t tell exactly what. But the general direction was one of my favorite old farmhouses! I do carry my cell phone out there, and tried to call 9-1-1. But the networks were busy. Everyone on the road about that time must have been trying to report the fire. I’d seen a fire truck about 90 minutes earlier, but it was not on an alarm—the driver waved and smiled passing me. I was sure I’d be hearing sirens soon. And listened, but just normal sounds. I finally got through to Reggie, who was working on our shop, to see if he could see it better. But he was closer to the ridge, so couldn’t tell where it was, but that he didn’t think it was the old farmhouse.

So I added 3 extra miles to my morning, and decided to go find out what was burning. Turns out it was a burn-to-learn, and it was an old farmhouse, but the next property over from where I first thought. When I finally crested the last rolling hill before, I could see high, hot flames. There were lots of fire trucks there; they’d even put up a big awning for shade in the front yard! And there were lots of spectators, watching the blaze, and lots of cars parked nearby. People like me went to see what was going on.
On my way up Killer Hill #2 (walking it, not only was it hot, but I hadn’t planned those miles) two of my neighbors passed with their kids in their cars. The kids were excited about the old house fire (I used to get fire nightmares as a kid – maybe they are tougher than me). The moms were making sure I really was out there to run, and if I wanted a ride home, it was available.

I didn’t take the ride. I enjoyed another 40 minutes or so of my time.