Resurrection Sunday

Here's how I saved myself after last weekend's distress call.

With some sweetened tea and half a banana in my belly, I fired up my MP3 player just as the host of "Resurrection Sunday" introduced my request. For all you earlybirds listening at 6 a.m. -- that was me asking Steve West to play "Working Girl" by 80s punk rock band The Members. Swear to God, I'm not a groupie. Just an avid listener.

I rushed outside to discover it really was 50 degrees as my WeatherUnderground button proclaimed and rolled through a hilly first half just as the sun christened a cloudless sky and air 20 degrees cooler than my last long run. I never lost my pace or my composure or, most importantly, last night's dinner. I charged up every incline. I stopped at a hilltop park in "new Scripps" (pictured above). I waved or said hello to every single person I passed. As I hit the dirt path leading to Miramar Lake, and looking on the horizon for Tijuana as a park sign suggests, I felt a contentness that had eluded me for months. The final five miles along the lake and back to my neighborhood seemed effortless. I ended up running 11 instead of 10. And, I swear, I grinned the entire hour and 40 minutes, humming along to the radio and hoping for a similar experience a week from now in Long Beach.