Here’s the payoff for all those destination runs, building up distance to stretch the boundaries of the neighborhood: I got to “run over” to see my new niece last week.
I didn’t have time for the 10-mile round trip, but since Rowan’s home on Christmas break, I asked her to drive over and meet me there and then take us on into town to run errands afterward. (Not exactly a hard sell; she‘d pass up a lifetime supply of Reese cups for a chance to hang out with Kyla.)
This was only the second time I’d run to Brent and Darcy’s house, and it was cool how effortless it was. (It’s only 5 miles, but there’s something about conquering a new route in your mind that matters at least as much as the distance itself.) It probably didn’t hurt that I was on the phone most of the run, fielding Christmas shopping queries from my dad along with setting up the visit and rendezvous. At one point Brent asked how far away I was, and while it felt like I had a ways to go, I realized I was only 1 mile from their road.
We never did get to hold Kyla — she was finishing up a “late lunch” when we arrived and spent the remainder of our relatively short visit struggling to burp — but it still felt like a fun “reward” after my run.