One more post away from the Mohawk Valley. We were staying with some friends who live in the Alexandria Bay area.
Sunday morning I got up early to run. I’ve run at my friends’ house before. It’s a fun setting. They live on a private road on a lake. It’s not exactly paved. There is a 10 mph speed limit posted, which kind of enforces itself. If you go much faster, you deserve what happens to your car.
It’s not a very long road, and I’ve previously run up and down it. I was pleased to be going for 20 minute runs in those days. These days I’m up to 30, so I got a little more ambitious.
The private road is off a dead end road which is off the highway. I thought I had heard my friend Tracy say that the other end of the private road came out on Simpson Road. I had seen Simpson, a mere stone’s throw down the highway, depending on who’s throwing the stone (not me; I live in a glass house).
I set out in that direction, enjoying the cool temperature. My friends’ house is only the second one in, so I was soon headed down the dead end road. I saw a bunny at the end of a driveway, sitting perfectly still. If there would have been a little more dead grass, he would have blended in better. He hopped away as I approached.
I heard some loud motors and wondered if they were boats on the lake or cars on the highway. I thought it was a little early for either, but who am I to judge? I hoped there would not be too much traffic on the highway. I really appreciate the sidewalks in Herkimer. Sometimes they are uneven, but few running surfaces are perfectly smooth, and the cars are nicely separated by a strip of grass.
Luck was with me, and the highway was empty. I should have known a stone’s throw looks a lot shorter from a car than on foot. Still, I thought, I can rock this. I know she said Simpson. I’m sure she said Simpson.
I had thought originally that if I was wrong or if it seemed a longer way than expected, I could always turn around and go back the way I came. No chance of getting lost that way. Problem was, I didn’t want to turn around. For one thing, Simpson was a pretty good road to run on. To my left I saw fog over some fields. At one point I could see the sun poking through the fog and some trees, making beams of light.
It was very scenic, but a big longer than I had expected. She did say Simpson, right? I looked at my watch. I had been running for 20 minutes. If I turned around now, that would be a 40 minute run. I wasn’t up to 40 minutes yet. Who was I kidding? Anyways, I didn’t want an all highway run. I wanted to run along the private dirt road and look at the backs of people’s camps. I decided to give it ten more minutes. I was really running very well; my legs weren’t complaining at all. Still, where was that damn turn? Ah, at last!
Then I saw I had two choices of private dirt roads. I was pretty sure I picked the right one. We had just walked our respective dogs down the road the day before, but we had not gotten all the way to the end. Things looked familiar, as I’d been out this far on previous visits, but previous visits were a while ago. Sometimes a thing looks familiar just because you want it to. At last I saw a fish mailbox I was pretty sure I remembered.
I saw a lady carrying mugs and a thermal carafe out to two men.
“That’s what I need — coffee!” I said.
“Go faster! Dig in!” one of the men said.
“At first I thought Ed was really into his work,” the other said. “No, Ed ain’t moving that fast.”
I could be mistaken about what the second guy said. I did not speed up as advised, but I did keep going.
I was delighted to realize I had broken my 30 minute plateau by running for 33 minutes. That is an increase of 10%, which a guy at the Sneaker Store told me was just about right. I may not be up for the Falling Leaves run, but I had a good run Sunday.
