We left Minneapolis at 7:10 a.m. yesterday. While out, I kept hearing what sounded like a revving engine.
“Boy, someone’s up early on a Sunday,” I thought.
It was thunder. Lightning crackled on the horizon, towards the airport. I hoofed it home quick, fast and in a hurry. I managed to get in a one-mile run. But I didn’t want to die.
We flew into Dallas yesterday. First impressions as we drove through on our way to Eustace, TX, to visit friends:
Dallas is…brown. Dry. Full of skyscrapers. Tons of churches, which look like big business and not centers of worship. Cool bridges that could double as public art, like the Margaret Hunt Hill Bridgge.
We also saw several private adult clubs, which confused Ruby and intrigued Zac.
“Does somebody have to invite you?” Zac wanted to know.
Getting out of Dallas challenged us. A spaghetti of highways, tangled beyond separation, led us out of downtown and into the eastern part of the state.
We found our friends’ home and collapsed on their couch. We spent some time catching up then went out to dinner. We watched some Olympic team qualifiers for women’s gymnastics and ate homemade cake.
This morning’s run was interesting. I stepped out the back door into air that felt like soup. Instantly, my exposed skin turned sticky. It was 76 degrees, and the sun hadn’t even risen yet. The insects and birds played a near-deafening symphony in honor of a new day. I paid close attention to the roads while my friend gave us a tour last night. I didn’t want a repeat performance of what happened in Wisconsin the other morning.
I also knew I wasn’t used to this heat and 90%+ humidity. Sure, I could soldier through up to a point. Then I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anymore. I turned left and headed down a country road, paved but rutted. I didn’t see anyone. Small houses, guarded by pickups, sat quiet and still. I chased a rabbit away from his thinking spot. A slight breeze blew out of the west, cooling my already-sweaty form.
I paced slowly. I stopped now and then to take in my surroundings and breathe. I got about 2 miles in and decided that was it for the day. I’m not used to the heat and humidity together. I’m learning to pace myself on this vacation as well. It’s good to be here, in a new place with old friends. I don’t want to miss a thing.
As a great lady of the south used to say, “Tomorrow is another day.”