Get out of my way

This morning I went for my run/walk. I’ve been doing it now for almost 8 years, probably longer than that. I drive down to Storrow and make a right into the bitty parking lot past the State Troopers’ barracks and the tennis court. It’s really been a thing, almost like Sunday mass or a brunch, I don’t like to miss it. I get so much out of it. When I was commuting to the suburbs I would rarely ever go downtown, so to spend time on the Charles was an urban treat with some of the benefits of the wild and the city. I’ve learned about certain characters, the older woman who roller skated with old school skates and an anatomy not unlike a praying mantis, arms and legs everywhere. The older guy who never seemed to be happy rollerblading, never had that easy flow of someone who truly enjoyed being on wheels. His expression was always a little constipated and angry. Who knows, maybe he was happy as a clam on wheels. There was the woman with black and curly hair, a little older, she probably lived in one of the west end apartments, loaded to the gills with money, probably married to an illustrious surgeon or maybe just a financier. She was nice. There were the dog walkers, whose dogs were much nicer than the owners. The German Shepherd guy who clearly has control issues, though his dog is a perfect gentleman. The homeless guy who looks like he shouldn’t be homeless, who plants himself on the first bench on the path, sometimes with a walker. And you’ll get the kids for Sunday morning soccer, or the dude bros playing softball, and Asian folks doing their early morning calisthenics. I’ve wiped out once or twice…