I took to the streets for a quick seven mile run. Expecting weariness at the day's end, I was happily surprised to find a lightness and joy in each step.
I jogged easily up the hill and over the top; danced over the backside, then zoomed towards the streets below. Dark shadows dipped between the streetlights. I stepped around them and through them, eying the bushes carefully for skunks or naughty neighbor's children who I sometimes imagine waiting there to leap out and scare the bejesus out of me. None came.
My legs felt light and fresh. The day of rest and extra hour in bed that had seemed so slovenly that morning now seemed extremely worthwhile. I ran down the hill feeling lucky and free.
Seven miles passed quickly, each as easy as the first. as I descended the final hill I marveled at my overwhelming feeling of being light yet strong, quick yet tough. In the final stretch I hear a pack of dogs howling from the hillside and felt as though they were singing for me.
Once inside the house, the sirens came... and then the helicopter. For fifteen minutes, it circled the neighborhood, the police spotlight searching the bushes below.
They weren't looking for skunks... or maybe they were, what do I know.
I hoped it was a false alarm and wished they would be on their way quickly... after all, their presence in my neighborhood will do little to support my case when I look to take to the streets again tomorrow.