run forrest, run

i used to call myself a runner. there was a time in my life when i ran 35-50 miles per week. however, with the move, the flat hunting, the blisters on the bottoms of my feet from walking 4 miles in high-heeled boots, etc., i hadn't run in about a month. until today!

let's back up, shall we? last night was another hard night of drinking...the other kids and i put in 7 hours or so (they went longer than that actually, i have no stamina). i woke up around 11:30 today and realized that:

a) the sun was shining merrily
b) i ate a lot of sausage and fried things yesterday

good reasons to go for a run. i was a bit too lazy to go to a nice park, so i mapped out a few miles around the 'hood, put the oyster card, tube map, and bank card in my spy belt, and off i went. i told Christine to call the police if i wasn't back in six hours.

the first mile went off without a hitch. the legs were feeling good, the sidewalks were relatively clear, i was finding my way. then about a 1/4 mile down high holburn (new street! new street!) i realized i might've gone the wrong way coming off gray's inn (another new street). no worries, i turned around and decided to just do an out and back.

about 1/4 mile up gray's inn road, i realized i was seeing new stuff. damn. i didn't have my A-Z street guide with me (that would just be silly, it's huge), but i was pretty sure gray's inn spit out around king's cross station. instead of turning around, i could find my way from pentonville road.

why do i always have to learn the hard way? :-)

i indeed wound up at king's cross; however, pentonville was nowhere in sight and i recognized nothing. you win, universe. i was officially lost. again.

luckily king's cross is a mega-huge station and i could get pretty much anywhere in the city from there. farringdon (home!) was one stop away on three different tube lines. word.

i hopped the train, hopped off again in clerkenwell (home!), and trotted off towards the flat. God bless the Underground.