Why I Run Wednesday #6

The ‘Why I Run Wednesday’ posts are a weekly feature exploring a past, present, or future reason why I run.

Camelbak, 1000 Hills grassfed beef, Netflix DVD
Running errands: The Pack

Would you believe I ran to McDonald’s last week? I suppose if you don’t know me well or at all, that is not particularly unfathomable. But if you do know me, you might be thinking “You went… inside… a McDonald’s??” Conveniently, there’s a Redbox in the Eat Street McDonald’s and that was the motivation for the destination. Oh and to pick up a some grassfed beef from the the Wedge Table (co-op) next door to go along with our organic popcorn, local cheese, fresh berries, dark chocolate ‘snack dinner’ and a movie–you might say we are food snobs, I might say I am… selective about my food choices. Literally running errands is a nice–and sweaty–way to check off a to-do list item and log training miles. The healthy version of a two for one.

Back when I was brand new to Minnesota, owned a car, and lived in the suburbs, I ran down Hwy 55 through parking lots/side of the road/knee-high grass to pick up my car from the shop. I gingerly handed over my check, a little damp from the commute.

This summer, Jen and I wanted to go tubing in New York, which was just a ferry ride across the lake from the hostel we were staying at in Burlington, Vermont. The only hitch was how to get from the dock to the attraction located a few miles away. Easy solution–we ran down the side of the road, fortunate to have at least some gravel to tread on while cars zoomed passed.

I’ve run errands in dress shoes (picture Elliot Stabler in SVU, but less bulky and less angry), in cloth shoes (Toms, Sanuks), and even a pair of flip flops. It’s not that I don’t have access to an assortment of running shoes (that part-time gig really comes in handy for building my ever-evolving collection), it’s that sometimes to catch a bus or make up for lost time from a late bus, or there’s no bus at all involved–just the urge to take off running, I’ll do just that in whatever footwear happens to be on my feet. Maybe that’s why I have never, ever, been interested in high heels…

So why do I run? Because getting from Point A to Point B on your own feet is a reward all of its own.

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