In the Spotlight

So if I can harp on it just one more time, I broke my finger two years ago while running before dawn. That put me off running before work for awhile. (Plus, you know, pregnancy and then having a baby to care for and all.)

But recently, I decided to start running early in the day again. Mostly because of that whole baby thing; it's really the only time that I can count on it happening. I was excited, but nervous. What if I fell and broke my wrist this time. How stupid would I seem THEN?!? To do it once is understandable. But twice is a little ridiculous.

I did run a few times when it was still dark out, and I just felt so vulnerable. I spent the whole time looking at my feet. Was that a shadow? Or is my foot about to be swallowed by a mammoth pothole? I was happy to be getting out again, but it wasn't the most enjoyable experience ever.

But then I remembered that, for his birthday, my Mother-in-law gave Keith a running headlamp. He's never worn it (I guess, for some reason, he feels it's unnecessary when he runs downtown on his lunch hour). So I had to hound him to dig it up, but he found it eventually. And wow! What a difference it makes.

I feel so much better and more secure running with my very own headlight. Literally. So far I've chosen to use the one that clips onto the underside of a baseball hat brim, which somehow seems slightly less dorky looking than the contraption that actually straps directly to your head.

There are a few things that I need to keep in mind, however:

1. I can't look other runners in the eyes and nod a friendly "Hello!" without blinding them.
2. I feel bad for Beckett when he has to make a pitstop, because I'm watching and waiting for him to finish (especially if it's something I'm going to have to pick up), and that means he is in a spotlight of sorts. No privacy here!
3. I can't try to peer into softly lit windows without giving away my voyeuristic tendencies. This morning I was running past this gorgeous mansion that I am always curious about. I fantasize about moving in there—there's even a second apartment on the grounds, above the garage and just past the pool, where visitors could stay or that could become my writing nook. (Because of course, for us to move into this place either Keith would have to create a bestselling web app or iPod app or I would have to write The Great American Novel.) So anyway, this morning I was running past about 5:45am and I saw a light on. Could I see inside? What was the decor like? Was it one of the owners that was up already? Or do they actually have servants? As I turned to get a better look, I saw the beam of my headlamp flash over the curb, up over the lush green grass and well-trimmed shrubberies, and into the window itself. I quickly looked back at my feet and picked up the pace.