Running Away

thanksgiving day 2004

Running north
For a moment I felt like Forrest Gump. Getting on the road and just running. I left the house, and headed for the beach. I knew there was a bike/running trail that went along the coast. I had no idea how far I was going to go, I just wanted to get out and run. There were few cars early Thanksgiving morning. The air was brisk, and I could smell the salt air. Such a beautiful day.

So I ran.
I ran out of my neighborhood, past homes that brought back many memories. Friends I grew up with. Past the church and schools where I learned all sorts of things besides a good education. There was the parking lot I stole cars from, and there was the stairs I smoked my first cigar, and behind the school is where the priest used to meet me with beer. Right there on the picnic benches, next to the playground with the merry-go-round. Quite an education.

I ran past all the bars my dad used to spend all his free time in. I ran past the hang-outs I used to visit as a teenager. There's a bowling alley, and tennis courts. I ran to the beach, where I used to ride my bike and spend many afternoons. I ran past the pier where my brother and I used to fish on cold early mornings. I ran.

And then I started passing lots of people, and I started to listen in on 10 seconds of their lives. A son and dad riding bikes, and I heard "That's cool, Dad". past two ladies "she always lets her chickens run wild" and two silicon enhanced ladies "she's always telling stories". Bits and pieces of humanity, there on my run.

I ran over the railroad tracks, to Hobo Jungle, an area that was off limits to us as children. Hobo's lived there. It wasn't until much later I realized they where homeless. But it was thrilling to finally enter that forbidden area, even though it was 40 years later.

I ran past trailer parks, and smelled the wonderful aromas of Thanksgiving dinners cooking. Dogs hanging out, and children playing in the surf. I saw a college aged son, embrace his father at the gate of his beach front home. It was an awkward hug, and I wondered what the story was there. I saw a man in his huge trailer, his back to the ocean, sitting in front of lots of computers, wondering why he didn't turn around and enjoy the surf. He looked like a computer nerd. I ran past three middle aged heavy set men, drooling over there shiny Harley motorcycles. I had to comment as I ran by "Nice bikes, I said.

I wonder how far this road goes? I was joined on occasion by bikers, not a very friendly group. A car stopped up ahead and two men got out, I crossed over to the other side of the road. I'm not getting mugged here.

I want to run on forever.

My phone rang and it was Bruce...."where are you?" "I'm running north" "are you running away" "Yes, but only for a time, and then I'll run back"