Eight miles is almost impossible to run in the city-you waste half of your time waiting at intersections and dodging other pedestrians. So, I decided to head out of the city, away from the sirens and the horns. After about 15 minutes I discovered how easy it was to escape the hubbub, but no matter how far I ran I couldn't elude the honking.
The honking that was competing with Amos Lee for my attention wasn't a product of the ubiquitous car horns for which Massholes (the well-deserved nickname given to Bay State drivers) are known; it was coming from the geese that were making their way away from the shore and across the expanding ice of Jamaica Pond-toward the shrinking pool of water that will soon lost to the New England winter.
It's good to get out of the city every once in awhile. For a moment today I felt like I was running down the fairway of the 7th hole at Sinking Valley Country Club, the golf course I grew up playing in PA. A gaggle of geese called the pond there home so I've plenty of practice dodging geese poop, a skill that came in handy on my run. When I made it to the far side of the pond the tops of the Prudential and John Hancock buildings were peaking over the tree tops, and I was reminded that I would soon be back among the Massholes and their horns.
-Godspeed
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