Sunday, August 19, 2007


You just can't keep a Montague from a Capulet. It can't be done. Forest Park is my Juliet. It's got natural beauty in a busy city, it has nice hills to train with, it has great fellow runners, and it has an oval track at the other end of its trail. After I discovered this place back in March, I immediately fell in love with it. So it is natural why I wasn't going to give up on it, after the incident just 5 days ago. For me, to give up on Forest Park because of a few bad thugs, is to lose. And for me, losing is not an option.

I got up this morning, and sleepy from last night's blog entry that took me to 2am, I took my body and my 6 hours of sleep, and headed for the friendly-park-turned-stigma. On the way there, I saw a nice sized tree branch, suitable for stabbing or sticking in the spoke of a bicycle tire. I picked it up and jogged into Forest Park, with my newfound 'baton'.

There would be no "punks" however. And I didn't expect any either. Only self-respecting people are found jogging and improving their lives at this time on a Sunday morning. Still, I took my stick, and I took my legs and charged all the way to Victory Oval near Woodhaven Boulevard, and I didn't even flinch when I ran past the scene of the crime earlier this week. There I was running 7 laps around the Oval, stick still in hand, people giving me funny looks I'm sure. No matter. I was accomplishing a lot this morning. No Fear. No Surrender, and my first ever 50 mile week. And now, several hours later, as I write this, my legs are feeling great. Running slower has really made the difference thus far. Fifty-two point three miles, and going strong....

1 comment:

DGA said...

Nice toothpick! You won't even scare a chihuahua with that! OK, it's a start. Good.