Unfurled

I went running this evening. The plan was to run an 11 mile route through the city authored by one of my running partners. I am a pathetic creature of habit– I drink one coffee with an equal portion of Over the Moon 1% milk every day, I eat 1 1/2 cups of all-bran every morning (sometimes with blueberries), I run loops around the Charles and if it’s a special day I might decide to walk a parallel route to work.

So this route which was clearly NOT along the river caused me the slightest bit of anxiety. But out we went. Up the Charles (I did get a bit in), behind the Fleet Center, down the waterfront (which this evening was a rather challenging obstacle course of swinging revelers– literally. There was an outdoor swing band.). At the Boston Harbor Hotel, we crossed a bridge and went down along the water’s edge at which point, I lost all sense of direction. I had no idea where I was. My partners began pointing out different buildings, new galleries, interesting hotels, a gigantic open air theater that I still cannot believe that I did not know existed until today. Perhaps because of the fact that both of the women are relatively new to Boston, I found it deeply humiliating that they knew so much. And I couldn’t even point in the direction of home.

In any case, this two hour and fifteen minute tour of the city (we got lost) made me realize how well rooted I am. I readily admit, I quite vociferously complain about Boston, but tonight perhaps for the very first time, I realized that perhaps part of the problem, is me.