It was a dark and stormy night. Nope, sorry. Let me try that again. Call me Ishmael. OK, again, sorry. That’s not it either. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. Really sorry about that one. OK, one more time. The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. Yes, that’s it. Much better. Starting fresh.
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. Melissa walked earlier in the day, whilst I chose the evening. Her pace quickened in the midday sun like soft rainforest droplets that dare touch the ground from the high canopy above. My own footfalls pounded the concrete like the labored lub-dub of a heart given way to too many years of pain. Our rhythms matched one to another while yet in two separate timescapes.
Yeah, yeah, I know. It sounds like some 19th-century novel preparing you for some impending dastardly deed by a shadowy figure. The truth is that nothing happened here today.
Melissa walked her uneventful 5K in an unremarkable time without a single exciting thing happening to her. I, too, completed my 5K in unimpressive fashion, in almost zero wind, and in fairly pleasant temperatures. I jogged a bit, walked a lot, and I finished in an average amount of time, which was 43:06 minutes. My average pace was a very average 13:54. Neither of us saw, heard, or experienced anything noteworthy today. Hey, every day can’t be like July 4th, right?
Although I have no story to tell about my walk, I do however have a short story to tell.
This evening I was supposed to attend an IT people gathering at the local Dead Armadillo Brewery near downtown. I did not go. By the time I made it home, changed, spoke briefly to Melissa; I was out the door and onto my daily 5K excursion. I finished at 6:30, which to me was too late to clean up, go to the place, consume overly hopped beers, complain about the overly hopped beers, and then return home at a reasonable hour. Some of us have to work tomorrow, you know.