Memorial Day provided a day and a half at our beloved Cedar Key on the Gulf of Mexico just west of Gainesville. Thought it was a good idea to touch base with Cedar Key and see it one last time before the oil spill reaches its pristine wetlands, clam farms, and abundant, secret fishing spots.
Don't rush, BP. Wouldn't want you to strain yourselves before AUGUST, when you think you might cap the gusher.
Sorry for the rant. I'm in love with the Gulf. It's where I go when my heart is unhappy or when my drained batteries need to be recharged. And I'm majorly confused and increasingly enraged by the Oil Spew without End. Today is the first day of Hurricane Season 2010 ... and I know things that inlanders don't know about disasters on top of disasters, so I'm thinking they should probably cap the well before the next time we see Jim Cantore on the Weather Channel -- sideways rain pelting his face and shredding his slicker as he struggles to remain upright and screams into his microphone from the howling beach at Cedar Key, warning us to vacate Florida immediately. Which could be TOMORROW. Oh, yah. This could get a LOT worse. It will. Mark my words.
But I digress (as I sometimes do).
Because the purpose of this blog is to yak about running, I wanted to let you know that Cedar Key, with soft island breezes and quaint neighborhoods and vast vistas of Gulf, provided a wonderful backdrop for running. A change of scenery can really spice up a workout program. And we have motivation to RUN in Cedar Key. It is populated by teeny winged demons called, "No-See-Ems." These are nearly invisible, entirely weightless insects that plague areas rimmed by marsh. One minute you're an oblivious innocent with a blood supply. And the next minute you're on fire and breaking out in welts. You can't see a No-See-Em, but you can FEEL 'em. Good news. You can also outrun 'em.