Over Thanksgiving weekend Blake and I had a telephone conversation about some of her favorite runs. When I asked her about what her ideal run would be, she didn’t hesitate. In the background I could hear the cry of a toddler demanding a mother’s attention. It wasn’t Quin, but his cousin, who is also about 19 months old. Blake was in a houseful of relatives, old and young, and the excitement level sounded high. So, in a way, I wasn’t surprised that Blake didn’t say anything about the thrill of qualifying for the Olympic team, or entering the Olympic Stadium at the end of the marathon before a cheering throng, although I’m sure she’ll never forget those times. When asked about her favorite run she went somewhere a lot different.
“My ideal run would be just me, by myself. Oh, and maybe a couple of coyotes.
One of my all-time favorite places to run is Walden Pond in Massachusetts. When I was working in Boston I would go for early morning runs there before work. You could run for two hours without seeing another soul. There were a lot of mornings where it was just me and a couple of fishermen. I loved seeing the sun peeking through the trees and the mist coming off the pond.”
Well, heck, it was good enough for Thoreau. – Dave, Blake’s writing “coach”
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