I woke up Monday morning at 5:00 a.m., and headed to the hotel lobby for a cup of coffee. As I entered the lobby, I heard a muzak version of the Rocky Theme.
This is going to be a great day.
I was headed to the Golden Gate Bridge and the marina district for a run–a run that I had been dreaming about since I first realized the conference I was attending would be held in San Francisco.
When I travel, one of the first things I want to do when I arrive at my destination is go for a run. For me, there is no better way to feel the rhythm of a place than to run it. Some people collect shot glasses with the city’s name; I collect runs.And, San Francisco is a great place to add to my collection. The last time I had been there, about 4 years ago, John and I stayed at the Red Vic on Haight Street, and we ran in and around Golden Gate Park and the Presidio. This time, I needed to add the Golden Gate Bridge to my collection.
My hotel is in the downtown area. I realized that if I ran from my hotel to the bridge and back, I would be running over 20 miles. This just didn’t seem like a good idea, after several weeks of not being able to run due to a hamstring injury. So, I consulted a public transportation map and figured out how to take the bus to the Marina District.
As the 30 bus came to its last stop on Divisdero, I exited the bus and headed to the waterfront, which was about 4 blocks or so away. Once there, I immediately spied the spacious pedestrian walkway along the water and followed it. As soon as I turned West, I saw it. The Golden Gate Bridge, connecting San Francisco to the delicious hills of Marin County.
The weather in San Francisco these past few days has been nothing short of spectacular: mid-to-high 70s, with blue skies. At 7 a.m., it was already in the mid-60s, and I felt the warmth of the sun as I made my way along the waterfront, which in the marina district has a great dirt path with the city to one side, the San Francisco bay to the other, and the bridge straight ahead. It took me only a few moments to come to the realization that John and I definitely do not live in the right place to fully enjoy our lifestyle. Places like San Francisco are much friendlier than New Jersey when it comes to running and cycling. With numerous trails, parks, generous cycling lanes–it seems like an endurance sport paradise.
The first song up on my mp3 player was from the Paper Tongues, “Ride to California” (much thanks to @bangs23 for this music recommendation). Even more musical evidence to suggest a great run was about to happen. I checked-in with my hamstring: does it hurt? Nope. And, for the first time in weeks, it didn’t even feel tight. More awesome-run evidence.
Once on the bridge, it took me a few minutes to get used to the height, and the sound of the cars whizzing by. Luckily, the incredible views helped me to forget my fear of heights.
Heading toward Marin County, I marveled at the chiseled hills. They reminded me of smaller version of the cliffs in Hawaii. They had that jurassic style to them, and if I had time, I would have loved to explore them. But, because I was not really sure where I was going, I decided to play it safe (I am geographically challenged). I will add those to my collection the next time I’m here.
As I turned around, I looked at my watch. I had been running for 33 minutes. My original plan was to run back to the bus stop and take the bus back down town, which would give me something in the neighborhood of a 6-7 mile run. Well, the run didn’t exactly go as planned.
When I turned around to run back across the bridge into San Francisco, the sun was in the sky, behind the downtown area, and created glimmering sun pennies across the entire bay. I was filled with the euphoria that comes from running, but also the beauty that surrounded me.
I am so blessed to live this life. I am so blessed to be able to run.
I repeated this, almost like a mantra as I ran above the bay.
By the time I got to the base of the bridge, I had decided there was no way I was getting back on the bus. It was just too beautiful. It had been too long since I had been able to run freely.
I headed east, and followed the water’s edge back to the downtown area. Once past the Marina District, I climbed around the Aquatic Park, and went through Fisherman’s Wharf, dodging the restaurant workers who were preparing the sidewalk for their lunch customers, who would probably start filling the area in an hour or so.
I passed the piers along the embarcadero, realizing that all too soon, I would be back downtown and the run would end, but my memories of it will not.
All the while, I was collecting: the sights, the sounds, the feeling of San Francisco under my feet.
