Apparently, I’ve been doing this running at the beach thing
all wrong. I usually hate running
while I’m at the beach; it’s hot and boring and you can see where you’re going
for a long, long, long time yet it never seems to be getting any closer.
But this year, Rob has started running too, and it’s made
all the difference in the world.
For one thing, I like having someone to go with, and for another, having
a partner opens up the possibility of running on the beach at night, which is
something I always wanted to do but never did because of safety reasons.
We’ve done several good runs, mostly in the cooler part of
the mornings, but we went out about 9:30 two nights ago when the moon was full,
and it was pretty awesome. Running
on the beach is one of those things that usually sounds more fun than it
is. I hate the way the shore is
banked, which can be hard on the hips for a long distance, but when the full
moon is shining on the water and there are kids with flashlights chasing crabs
and there are fireworks off the pier, the banked slope isn’t nearly as
In fact, that run was one of those where I found myself
running faster and faster and feeling better and better. I felt really strong.
Afterwards, even I couldn’t resist jumping in the waves and
going for a quasi- night swim. I’ve
always wanted to go swimming in the ocean at night, and the full moon made it
even more appealing—even though I did tell Rob to cue the scary music as I ran
toward the waves. It was
beautiful, but all I could think about was that poor, dumb girl frolicking in the
water, and then… the jerk. Once, gasp,
twice… then, the screaming. Fans
of 1970’s horror classics know what I’m talking about.
Rob said, “Isn’t this the stuff that makes you feel alive?”
“Yes,” I said, “if only for the moment.”
We didn’t go out terribly far. Even Rob said it freaked him out just a little. With that, I made my way back to the
sand but quick. I stepped out of
the waves, soaking wet but on dry land, and I thought, “Yep, I feel pretty