running on the beach on a non-snowy evening

my favorite place to run is alongside the ocean. there. i've said it. i haven't deserted my beloved mountains for some tempting water and sand mistress. i will continue to hike in the cool mountain air anyday compared to the most beautiful island hikes in high humidity and occassional mud. but running should be next to water, and no water is more tempting than when accompanied by beach and waves (it is pretty hard to run alongside a kayak down the colorado, after all).

some of my most memorable, longest, and enjoyable runs have been on a beach. back in the late '70's my brother moved to florida. he lived on the water, 3 blocks from the beach and ocean. these are the legendary beaches near daytona, where sharks pose a serious threat which is secondary to the prowling pontiac which shares the beach with runners and sunbathers. fortunately, the beaches around new smyrna are the same width (around low tide) as the state of texas. kick off your shoes, point yourself north, and you can run until you reach canada. or so it seems. when samantha was born my parents and i stayed at a cottage on the beach about 5 miles from my brother's. it was around my birthday. i remember setting out and losing track of everything except the sand and the surf (there were no distracting brunettes at 6:30 a.m.). soon i was at my brother's house. no surprise, he was sleeping. i turned around without stopping and headed back to the cottage. 10 miles without ever feeling like i was running.

i bought my dad a tennis racket that day. just because. it felt good to finally give something back. such an idyllic time. within months he had been killed by two errant semi-trucks. but i remember every detail from his lying in the hammock at al's, enjoying that racquet, and eating as many calories as a daily run up to 10 miles would allow. i cannot think of new smyrna without thinking of running. that terrible run in pounding rain after the service at al's funeral. lightning and thunder everywhere, and the rain matching my mood and tears. wonderful, joyful runs with my incredible niece and nephew. leisurely days seeing how far sami could run on the beach. and her patient, anxious to please personality walking for half an hour in one direction and then returning while i ran for the same time. remarkably, we ended up together and had time to laugh.

perfect sand and a perfect beach. i have found times in the caribbean where the loveliness is impossible to accept. up and back on a half moon beach in cane garden bay without shoes for an hour and a half. the same at little dix in virgin gorda where i was dropped while a friend went diving and entertained the guests with my back and forth run on the half mile beach where the room rate was ten times more than where i was staying.

my favorite is when my toes are in the water and the sand is firm enough for me to splash but not sink. visions of chariots of fire but i have a better tan. whether in guam, new caledonia, or martha's vineyard i have had flights of fancy as the waves with "tremulous cadence slow" match my 9 minute pace.

but the caribbean is special. and new smyrna still has my heart and memories.

which brings me to my current life on st croix. i can run by the ocean on a daily basis again. my knee is not healed (of course it has not been seen by a doctor, either), but i am lured to the waves like a lemming and stubborn as a republican on stem cell research. there does not have to be any logic to it. the waves are there, and so am i. i wear my shoes because this is not new smyrna or cane garden bay. but the smile is there, and my running companion doesn't mind that she is twice as fast as long as she can use her paws to chase the sea birds that like to torment her. i would trade it all for that cottage with the family intact, or for a nice walk-run with sami. but my running lets me remember. and eat that extra piece of banana cream pie.