So on Saturday morning I wanted to get my run in before I began a very busy day. I had a friend to meet for lunch and shopping, and my sister was coming to town. I’d see her and her oldest daughter for supper in nearby Miami (OK, not FL). But since my schedule said I was supposed to run eight miles I tied on my shoes and hit the road after only two cups of coffee. And a little dish of yogurt.
About a mile, maybe a mile and a half down the road, I started to hear drums. And bagpipes. And to weave my way around moms with strollers and dads with toddlers who were clogging up the sidewalk and even the edges of the street. Very odd for Saturday morning.
Another block or two and I saw the parade being organized. Hurrah. Of course I started debating with myself. Should I stop running and head home for my camera? Or should I keep running and skip the parade? I ran another mile while I considered my options and then headed home. Clearly if the world throws you a parade, you should take time to stop and count the drummers. Or the veterans, as the case may be.
I decided to interpret that as a sign from God that I should sit myself down and start the running blog I’ve been considering for AGES. If you’ve moved over here from my previous blog, you already know that I talk more about running than about anything else. So here we are are. New day. New blog. Favorite topic. Welcome.