Monday Tradition

I have a new tradition. Roxy still goes to day care on Mondays and we are both enjoying this time apart. I found an awesome place to run after I drop Roxy off. After the half-marathon in Nov I have hardly exercised at all and put on about seven pounds. Of course, I am not worried about putting on weight, in fact, I welcome it, but I don't like what it is a symptom of. Anyway, I've started running regularly again and found a beach to make the experience a lot more enjoyable. Let me describe...

Three miles from our home is Picnic Point, my starting point. There are few access points to the shoreline in this area so there are few other people around. It is 60 degrees and the sky is clear. I run on the hard packed sand enmeshed with river rock that absorbs my pounding. On one side I see the Puget Sound. From here it looks like a bay. The water and one-foot waves are comparable to a lake. In the background is a snow capped mountain range. I see a crane at the waters edge and seagulls swooping in the shallow water. On the other side, large rocks ramp up to a railroad track, and beyond that a few million-dollar homes and a reserve lush with tall firs and inhabited by chirping birds. To keep it interesting, I high step over the occasional driftwood and rocks scattered on the shore. I pass by a series of ancient posts in the water that must have held up a dock decades ago. Around a bend a train zooms by and I come to a no trespassing sign protecting a grounded barge that looks as old as the posts I passed and a home that is accessible only by crossing the tracks. I run on the nuetral tracks to skirt by the private property and get a closer look at the mysterious old 150 foot ship. It has vegetation on the top and looks like a monstrous plant pot. I want to press on, but I've been running 25 minutes already. Just to the next bend. I turn around then get to a point where the tide has come up to the railroad rocks. I had to scale the rocks to run on the tracks. Inevitably, a train comes and whistles at me from behind. I rush to the side and in 15 seconds watch the engine fly by up close and personal. Another hundred yards and back to the beach I finish off a beautiful Pacific Northwest run.