Unemployment sure has its perks!
After running 3 miles, I could have turned around and headed home to finish my workout. Instead, I meandered through the Presidio in search of Baker Beach. It's west of the Golden Gate Bridge, and hard as heck to find when you're 6 feet tall and tucked inside a forest. Somehow I ended up west of the bridge three times and kept zigzagging back to the east side. It was then that my body said enough, but simultaneously my mind said "run across the bridge". I have never been across it outside of tin and wheels—so I opted to tough this one out.
In a few days I'll be in South Dakota. I'm trying to accomplish things in locales that are unique to those places. Family is in South Dakota. Friends, too. And at KU. I'll be at KU for a few days. And I'll milk those days for the family and friends that fill them. But in San Francisco—and in no other place in the world—you can run across the Golden Gate Bridge if you please.
By the time I made it home, I had logged 12.5 miles. My bunions feel like pig hooves, but the rest of me says "thanks for the day." Except for my skin. It says "you let me burn, you sonuvabitch." Shhhh, meet my friend, Aloe Vera.