In retirement, the days of the week quickly lose their identity, blending together and distinguished only by the sunrise and sunset. There is no longer a need to set an alarm and little concern about scheduling conflicts. For me, now, every day is just Runday, the only commitment that I really need to accomplish. The sun gets me out of bed, usually just before seven until time change screws that up. I like to hit the pavement before it gets too hot, even though most days it’s nearly 80 degrees by the time I get the dog duties and push-ups completed. By the time I get to the half-mile marker I’m already sweating profusely, and at the finish line my t-shirt is soaked. 

It will be good to get back to the cooler Oregon temperatures in a few weeks. I might then have enough energy to do some longer runs. So far, this summer has been draining on my 71-year-old body. Apparently, the Sahara sands that typically drift over this area not only filter the intensity of the sun’s rays but also give us the striking sunsets that people flock to the beaches to watch. We were there last night for the show from Englewood Beach, but the clouds got in the way. Fortunately, the Fourth of July from Venice Beach was clear just a few days ago. 

I’m proud to report that my running streak now sits at 5,305 days without fail. Despite the soreness in my hip muscles and the lack of motivation, I somehow manage to fulfill this daily commitment to myself. December 28th will mark fifteen consecutive years, but still a long way off. By then, I will have been to two more weddings, at least two more baseball games, celebrated another birthday, hopefully will have avoided another hurricane, and joyfully will have witnessed many more sunsets from the beach. I’m counting down the Rundays until this next milestone.