The place were we live now has this huge open green space with a nice little soft jogging track next to the sidewalk. A full walk around it is about a half-mile. I figure I might just as well take a nap as walk this circuit at a normal 3 mph pace; doing eight laps, or four miles, in an hour is a bit more of a challenge. Something about constantly trudging up and down the hills where all the cool trails are makes you appreciate the simple pleasures of a flat trail with no poison oak or knee-deep stream crossings.

This appreciation lasts for about 12 seconds, which is about how long it takes for the boredom to set in and the urge to make it interesting takes over. The only thing that springs to mind is trying to run some of the course, an odd choice for somebody who finished last in every foot race he ever entered until graduation from high school freed him from having to endure such torture.

My running is more of a listless shuffle, but it does allow great improvements in lap times. I go on and off, running till I can count to 20, walking for the same time, and repeating all the way around. Remarkably, when I run more than I walk, my times improve. My shuffle/walking combination produced about 4.5 miles in an hour, which must account for something, judging from the sweat spot I left on the park bench.

Not the most idyllic way to log miles and stay in shape, I suppose, but at least it’s outdoors.