I am only shuffling these days. But even so, here is an account of the running I did during a trip to Florida and to the Caribbean in early 2022.
Palm Bay, Florida - just a couple miles in this little town halfway down the Eastern Coast of Florida. I begin by thinking I might find the ocean, but no such luck. Even so, it is a fairly enjoyable couple miles through a nice neighborhood.
Florida City, Florida - A bike trail, of all things! It's the very last thing I expected to find whilst running along the four and six-lane busy streets around here. It doesn't go very far, and part of it is near some idling school buses spewing diesel fumes. Yet there is a bit of needed solitude as well. In addition, I manage to get myself into a fenced-in truck depot of some kind. I'm lucky to get back out close to the hotel where I'd hoped.
<<<Begin Cruise>>>
Oceania Riviera - It's ten laps per mile, and on previous cruises with similar tracks, I've gone as far as ten miles. But even though the Achilles pain is still gone, my left hip is bothering me after three and a half. I'll have to watch it. As I proceed to alternate between the sports deck (the 10 laps per mile) and the treadmill, I realize that running would be much more fun if I did it onshore. Unfortunately, we have excursions planned for most places, so there isn't a lot of time.
After several days in a row of running around in circles, I finally make it up to six miles worth. But they're slow. Very slow. Excruciatingly slow. But wait. It gets better. In the afternoon, I jog even slower into the town of Phillipsburg, St. Maarten. I hesitate to call it running at all, and I don't make it more than a couple miles. But there it is.
More running in circles. More running on the ship's dreadmill. Today, however, is a big day. We unexpectedly spent the night in Barbados, so now I can do an early morning run out away from the ship. Hey, maybe I can get as many as five or six miles in! I carefully pack a backpack, something I have nearly never done before. But you know, I may possibly need my proof of vaccination, negative Covid test result, wallet, key card, headlamp, and a bottle of water. I go down to the gangway area that is supposed to open at 6:00 AM. It's 6:02, and they're still setting things up. No problem, I think, I can be patient. Eventually, they do the facial recognition scan and I proceed down the gangway. Then they call me back; they need to clear the ship for visitation. I wait while they speak on the phone. Then they explain in detail that I am not allowed to walk to town from the ship. Why, I ask - we'd done so yesterday. Now we're back farther into the shipping area, they say, and no one is allowed to walk here. Shuttle busses will begin taking people to the cruise terminal at 8:00 AM. I'm livid, but what can I do?
It turns out that I do get some running in, although not so much. I do one mile on deck, and then a couple more after Debbie and I walk along the shore to town and a beach. Sometimes things just don't work out as you think (or hope) they will.
It's the last full day onboard and I want to get around six miles in. As with most mornings, I split the mileage between the mill and the deck. Although running in circles can be boring, I nonetheless love it. I get to see the sunrise along with the ever-changing sea and sky, and most days I get to watch us come into port.
I've run every full cruise day. It's been mostly pretty good running. Now, about those extra pounds I've put on despite the mileage.
<<<End Cruise>>>
Florida City, Florida - After taking disembarkation day off, I'm back at it. In fact, I'm back in Florida City, running on some of the same streets I did two weeks ago. For some reason, I'm running even slower than I did then. It's windy and cold - very cold for South Florida. I watch out for iguanas falling from trees, but I manage to stay safe.
Key West, Florida - Now I am in Key West, running the normally busy close-in streets. But it's early Sunday morning, and everything is dark and quiet. I run over to Mallory Square, partially on the famous Duval Street. Some guys are emerging from a bar that must be closing up now that it's 5:30 AM. They heckle me a little, but that's okay. I get back in one piece after a pretty decent short run.
<<<Begin Panama City Beach>>>
Here I am, running on the beach in PCB, something I did very little of |
Panama City Beach, Florida - Beachside Six. That's the name of my 6-mile course here in Panama City Beach. I'm running it now, and it's fairly grand; the sun is rising and it's a beautiful morning. And I'm running relatively well, despite last night's ill-advised bbq beef brisket. That's relative to recent months, not years (as in the last time I ran this course two years ago).
Beachside Six Course |
We're settled in for the month here at PCB. Most of the rest of this long post will take place here. Back to the course. It's up and down quiet and quiet residential streets in order to mostly avoid the busier Front Beach Road. I will probably be doing it a lot.
It's my second day and my second run here in PCB, and I'm wasting away again, looking for my lost shaker of salt. There's a Margaritaville Bar/Restaurant in PCB, but they're also building a Latitude Margaritaville living community nearby but at a different location. It's that latter place that I'm searching for today. I run West, past Rosemary Beach, and into the town of Seacrest. That's where I encounter the new construction of beach homes and condos galore. The scale is nearly unbelievable. This must certainly be the place. Before I can confirm that by seeing a sign or something like a margarita, I figure it's time to turn back; I've gone nearly 5 1/2 miles and it will be a challenge to remain vertical in this wasted-away condition. A while later, I return to the Beachside Resort in one piece. It's been a good run, my longest in a while. After some googling, I learn that I was nowhere close to Latitude Margaritaville. It was just Seacrest.
The wind grabs my car door as I open it to attempt to get out. It's not only extremely windy. It's also 38 degrees. But I'm determined. And prepared; I have my jacket, my extra layer of undies, my hat, my gloves, etc. All that, and I still have to run. Not only run but run fast. At least a little. I'm at the Arnold HS (home of the Marlins) track, you see. I'm about to do my first speedwork in ten or eleven months. My expectations are, I think, realistic: 5ish 400M repeats at whatever pace I can do, although 2 minutes would be nice. My first 400 starts nicely enough, and it feels great to run fast for this first time in nearly a year. Until that is, I traverse the curve and turn into the wind. It stands me right up, but I try hard to bend over and make myself less of a target. I somehow manage to finish that one, and four more, all between 2:05 and 2:06. I'm nothing if not consistent. This was tough. But fun. I love the track.
It's got to be either some large earth-moving equipment or else a T-Rex. I'd only just started my run in PCB Conservation Park when I began to hear this din. But I had to run a couple of miles before I could confirm that it was indeed the former option and not the latter. They're actually logging; clear-cutting parts of the park. I don't like it, but these loggers probably don't like me, either. The equipment, while not in my way, has caused the trail to be torn up and muddy in spots. I don't like that either. But otherwise, this is shaping up to be a pretty nice run. It's nine and a half miles around the perimeter of the park. This part is called the Bear Trac trail. I stop to look for alligators. No gators. No bears either, for that matter. This is all just as well. After passing the loggers, I'm very much alone; there isn't another human being for miles. I'm good with that, so long as the large carnivorous animals stay away. The best news is that my run goes well. The pace generally gets better as I go on, and I even break 10 minutes for my last mile. That's smokin'! ((Update: I later determine that the logging was not within the park, but just outside the boundary.))
When I say, "I didn't have it today," the implication is that I actually did have it at some point. Quite an assumption. I speed down Dolphin. I power up Pompano. And I'm movin' on Marlin. All at a land speed record of around 14 minutes per mile. But that slowness really is okay. Really. You see, I ran fairly intensely for the past two consecutive days and I was due for a stinker. It's nice to have it out of the way.
Mardi Gras 5K |
My race, the PCB Mardi Gras 5K, is done and I'm cooling down. It's slow, even slower than my race pace had been. But then, everything's relative. There are about a thousand kids playing and practicing softball and baseball as I slog by. A bright yellow softball rolls in front of me, so I slow down even more, bend down, pick it up, and throw it over to the nearest girl. The bending is tough and painful, but the throw turns out to be excruciating. It's my right shoulder, not the side that caused me problems a few months ago. This one, I think, is more serious. Best to try not to think about it. And it's the same with today's race; if I don't think about it, it wasn't quite so bad. If you must know, it was just a bit over 29 minutes for a 9:18 pace. I'd thought I could do better. But at least I completed it. And the best part is, it's over! By the way, I was the second codger in my ancient age group.
You say you want a long, peaceful, quiet, serene trail run? Well, if you're in Panama City Beach, head over to PCB Conservation Park. I'm doing my second run here this month, and it's really great. Just like last time, I'm completely alone. Not another soul within miles. This time, it's even quieter because there is no logging going on. My run goes pretty well. I am smooth and strong as I finish even faster than last time.
Conservation Park |
I have to keep switching sides on Front Beach Road because it's crowned so much. I don't like it. After a couple miles, a sidewalk begins, but it's concrete. I don't like it.
After planning to run between five and six miles east before turning back, I reach a whole bunch of construction, enough to make it difficult to get around. I'm getting tired and it's mile five, so I turn back at this point. Regarding the construction, I don't like it. Regarding getting tired, I don't like it.
I slow down even more with each passing mile. I don't like it.
I finally get back. Got my ten in. Best of all, I'm still vertical. I like it.
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