Tonight I'm blogging from the Atlanta airport. (Thank goodness for mobile broadband on long layovers!)
I still have one more hop to go to get home to my hubby, cat (Peanut), and my bed. But, despite the long hours of air travel, I am sure I woke up at home this morning. By "get home" I mean returning to the Gulf Coast. But by waking up "at home" I mean San Diego. Seven months after moving to Florida, my brain is still reeling, trying to figure out which one is which.
When I "get home" hubby will greet me with hugs and kisses. Peanut will head-butt me (her sign of affection) then flop over and expect me to rub her tummy. I will be glad to get home, because I miss them both terribly.
But when I woke up "at home" this morning I had the good fortune to run with more than half a dozen of my very good friends, at one of my favorite running places in the world: Sunset Cliffs in Ocean Beach. The weather was cool -- there was no need for "beat the heat" tricks I use in Florida. (The rumors are true. San Diego weather really is perfect running weather year-round.)
We ran along cliffs towering above the Pacific ocean. We watched dolphins searching for their breakfast. My friend C baked the most amazing peanut butter and jelly cookies for our post-run breakfast. (C, if you're reading this, those are the best cookies I have ever eaten. Period.)
I've covered more than 4,500 miles (in air) over the past four days. I'll probably forget every single one of them. (Heck, I slept through several thousand of them.)
But the six miles I ran this morning will stick in my memory for years to come.