Run Away

Forty-eight hour business trip to the beach near Charleston, SC. Damnedest thing--men in ties and jackets, women in heels, in a building 200 yards from the ocean. Except me, of course. No heels for me, and at my age and stage of career, my work clothes are comfortable.

Got lots of beach miles, walking and early morning running. Didn't bring a bathing suit. Nervous enough seeing work people in compression spandex. No way they get to see bare skin. I thought of my friend Alice, and her similar trip to nearby Savannah. 

Had time on Sunday to walk 22,000 steps through Old Charleston. I swear, if I was 20 years old and just starting out, I'd totally move to Charleston. All the tourism folks talking to us emphasized the food scene there, as much as the 10,000 new good jobs building Boeing airliners.  But this is the old South. I am unable to tell if the rest of my family would be as welcome here as I felt. 

Away from family responsibilities. No crisis while gone, but fretting over being out of touch as we live on a knife edge always. Home tonight, and all well. Positive movements. 

I love that my ideal time away includes running and walking. I was able to eat well without blowing it, but back to strict induction tomorrow for 3 weeks to try to blast through this plateau.