It’s day three of our vacation to Sutton’s Bay, MI, and I’ve run seven miles. Did you read that right? SEVEN. MILES. Now for a lot of you, that’s no big whoop, but for me, who runs maybe six miles in a week, on a really good week, this is quite a feat. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. We had traveled a lot on Friday and Saturday so by Sunday I was ready to get away from the tired, manic, crabby children and hit the road. Plus, I am sort of “training” (and I use that term loosely) for a 7k next month and I don’t want to walk any of it.

The beach is right across the street from our house and the road in front is a lazy two-lane, quiet country road. So on Sunday Erin and I took a left out of our driveway and I walked with her for a bit. Then I decided that I needed to run, that I would feel better working up a nice, big sweat. So I ran up the gradual incline with the lake on my right, watching the beach sink from eye level to about twenty feet below the road. I ran past a few houses, several bikers, a couple of cars. The road climbed steadily through a wooded area where a fawn jumped across my path (is this place real? I was thinking). I kept running because I never knew what was around the corner and I wanted to find out. I kept going and going till I came upon a cherry orchard and a white and green barn up on my left. Then I turned around and came back home. I asked Pete, who had been running that morning, how far that was (he is blessed with a Garmin watch, I am not blessed with any kind of distance-judging skills. I am not even sure which way is north if I can’t see the sun). He said it was about three miles. I said aaaaalllll-right!

I was going to just go for a nice, long walk yesterday but I started drinking too early. For some reason I just feel like I can’t drink and exercise. Like I’ll get an RUI.

Instead this morning I thought I’d just try to go the other direction, to the right out of the driveway, up to the main road and back, which is about a mile. So I did that, and as I was running back and the house came within my view, something strange happened. I saw Eli and Gabe playing out front, and I thought, oh maybe I should stay with them so they have an adult nearby. Then I saw Jay come out with them. Then I realized no one saw me running by so I just kept running past the house and up the hill. Then I thought, maybe I’ll try to get to that cherry orchard again, wouldn’t that be crazy? Several times I thought maybe I should turn around because I wasn’t sure what I had left in me for the return trip. But I persevered and it didn’t seem to take as long to get there as I pictured in my head and it wasn’t as painful as I thought to just keep going and going.

On the way home, I thought about stopping a few times. I felt a cramp coming on, my legs felt like jello, and was my left shoelace a little loose? Should I stop and fix it? Amazing how the way out is so quick, but the way home took forever. I kept thinking our yellow mailbox would be just around the next corner, until finally, it was. And I wanted to say that I ran four miles, to be able to utter the words to someone.

I’m not sure what got into me this morning. Maybe it was the energy I had from carb (via beer) loading the night before. Maybe it was the guilt from eating and drinking too much the past few days. Maybe it was the techno music in my ears. Maybe it was the lack of a schedule, that I didn’t have to be anywhere. Maybe it was the beautiful scenery and the cool breeze in my face. Whatever it was, now I know now that I can do it. And that calls for a toast.