on the iPod: "the wind" -- zac brown band
A great friend who introduced me to distance running almost four years ago says that a vacation isn't a vacation if one doesn't come home completely worn out and exhausted. Vacations are for going non-stop from morning until midnight, experiencing absolutely everything and skipping nothing. If there's a line, stand in it. Tired feet are par for the course. Be prepared to be ripped off at chain restaurants. Expect an emotional meltdown, brought on by the constancy of a break-neck pace, at least twice. Every time I hear her describe her family vacations I can't help but grin, knowing full well I wouldn't last one day without throwing my hands in the air and coming home. Bless her heart.
For me, vacations pretty much mean the exact opposite of everything described in the aforementioned paragraph. I want to do as little as possible while away, preferably surrounded by sunshine, water, and sand. Of course there is time for running, but otherwise I want to slow down and check out a bit, making the beaches of the Gulf Coast one of my favorite destinations. My family has gone since Susan and I were very young and I've lost count of the different towns and condos in which we've stayed. For all intents and purposes they are the same, though my sister would argue that the further east one goes the clientele and accouterments trend toward the a Dillard's as opposed to a Walmart crowd. And to an extent she's right, but what seems like so many other times in life, I find myself blending in to the particular strand of Southern culture, regardless of which one it is.
This last week's trip was one of the best in recent memory. Ours was a large crew, with two other families in tow, making for a sizeable contingency from Fayetteville ascending on the sun-soaked beaches of the Gulf Coast. Of course it never fails that there are tons of friends down there at the same time, and I almost always run into somebody I know on the beach. This year it was great to see Amie and Jeanne Moore not more than 100 yards from where we were. Lee Cain, Adam Ritchey, Max Moore, Jennifer Chotard, and Jeri Hill were all down there with their respective families as well. Such a small world.
The Gulf Coast is the perfect mixture of everything beautiful and everything trashy about Southern culture, and I love both parts. For instance, everybody smiles and says "hi" and they truly mean it. Food is prominently celebrated at all hours of the day, with some of the best cooking a man could ever eat. The beach is a promenade of SEC football glory, with families displaying anything and everything that can be emblazoned with an LSU or Alabama logo. And possibly best of all, nobody is in a hurry to get anywhere. On the other hand, really cheap canned beer is the drink of choice, coupled with a lit cigarette at all times. Being overweight is almost the norm as opposed the exception, and correct grammar is optional. Having said that, I'll happily take the good with the bad and choose to be proud of what makes Southern culture so unique -- the people.
For me the week consisted mostly of drinking coffee on the balcony, walking along the shore, reading with my toes in the sand, and I even watched an episode of classic television.
Midweek I had a great run that started in Alabama and ended in Florida at the famed Florabama lounge, including a killer bridge that spanned the entrance to the Intercoastal Waterway. Over the years i've had some particularly memorable runs at the beach, but I'm not for sure if I've ever experienced one so dang brutal. The heat was beating down in the middle of the day and there wasn't a bit of shade in sight -- nothing but highway in front of me and sunshine overhead. When I got to the Florabama, it was in full swing with wrinkly locals and touristy nonlocals drinking beer, playing bingo, and listening to Willie Nelson. Again, the best and worst of Southern culture under one roof.
Now that i'm back in Northwest Arkansas, it's time to really focus on training for the New York City Marathon. I've got four (possibly five) shorter races in between now and then, but I can already feel myself starting to get excited about early distance runs on Saturday mornings, exhausted legs, high-protein meals, and going to be early. I almost feel like i've been training nonstop for the last three and a half years and have come to love the process as much as crossing the finish line after 26.2 miles. I feel like i'm at my best when I'm training for a marathon, and the eve of this training season is finally here.
Run.
No comments:
Post a Comment