Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Running

It has been difficult to fit running into my schedule.

Kubota is out of school and Mrs ERJ is working extra to clear the decks as she intends to retire this summer.

If Kubota were my girlfriend I would break up with her.  He is out of school and time lay heavy upon his hands.  He keeps me on a very short leash.  "Dad, we need to go here and do this."  "Dad, we need to go there and do that."  "Dad, where are you?"

Sometimes I get a bit testy when I get a phone call when I am in the yard, 40 feet from the house, 15 feet up in a tree trying to whittle a twig on the end of a bouncy limb.  It is a time when a man needs 4 arms.  Two to keep working, one to hang onto the ladder and one to fish the phone out of a pocket.

I tried something different today and it worked.  I will do it again.

I took my running fanny pack to coffee with me.  I asked one of the regulars if he would give me a ride to Onondaga.  He graciously agreed.
 
About four miles into the run I realized I was in trouble for electrolyte.  I was sweating out more than I had brought along.  The temperature was only 70 but it was foggy and there was no breeze.

Their trucks look like this.  I made a point of remembering the contractor's name.

I was lucky.  I ran into a crew laying fiber optic line and one of the gentlemen let me refill a water bottle with their ice water.  I offered him a buck and he refused.  He said, "What is right is right.  Water is free.  This ain't Arizona."

I asked him how they guided the drill head.  He told me that the unit has what look like four, independent trim-tabs (like on a boat) and a guy with a monitor radios back to the drilling crew, up-down, left-right.  I always wondered

Kubota


Sure enough.  About half way back to my car I got a call.  "Dad, where are you?"

I told him "I am on a run."

Again, he asked "Where are you?"

I told him, "I just passed your buddy Tolstoy's house and I am parked in Eaton Rapids.  It is going to be a while."

The good news is that he stopped calling.  The bad news is that he started sending me texts of things I could pick up for him in town. 



Sigh!  All was not lost.  He put a Bell's Two Hearted Ale in the fridge for my post-run re-hydration.


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