Thoughts of a Roads Scholar: I Left My Watch.................In Alpharetta

Last Sunday, I headed out to San Francisco. My watch, however, stayed behind at home in Alpharetta. Our trial separation was not planned. This was not a conscious decision made by either my watch or myself. It was just that in my haste to get to the left coast, the watch was left sitting in my top dresser drawer.

I was only half way to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in Atlanta when I realized the oversight. For most of my running life, my watch had been about the most important adornment I'd ever owned. In fact, there was a time that I would rather have left the house naked than without my watch. In years past, having realized the calamity, I would have gotten off at the next exit, wound my way back home, and called Delta to reschedule my trip for a later flight, just so I could get my watch.

But apparently I am now living in a different era, maybe even one that includes logic and sensibility. I just shrugged and continued on to Hartsfield, ready to embark on a long and timeless journey. Times have changed, even if I didn't have the time to validate what time it actually is. To take and modify a famous Satchel Paige quote, "What time would it really be if you didn't know what time it really was?"

I landed in Frisco at about noon last Sunday, and headed for the hotel. San Fran is one of those cities you can easily fall in love with. Between the temperate climate and breathtaking beauty of lifting fog over the bay and the world renowned hills, compliments of the San Andreas and Hayward faults, it is easy to understand how Tony Bennett left his heart there.

One of my work teammates is also a runner, and we were lucky enough to draw this assignment together. So on Sunday afternoon, we headed for the hills and did a slow 4 miler on a dirt trail the cut through cow pastures. I was keenly aware of the fact I didn't have my watch, but my running partner had his, so about every 15 seconds I badgered him about how long we had been running. When all was said and done, we had gone about 40 minutes. It was a good start to the week.

One thing I love about west coast trips is that I gain three hours along the way. As a result, I go to sleep early and wake up the next morning feeling rested and ready to run well before the first hint of daylight. I don't need a watch to appreciate that. True to form, I was out like a light by 7:30 Sunday night, and on Monday morning, I think I was up before 3. My normal routine is early to bed and early to rise, but Sunday into Monday was ridiculous.

At the first hint of daylight, I took off to run, not having a clue of how far I was going to go, and without a watch, not even really having a way of estimating how long my run was going to be. When you are carving your route as you run it, it's very hard to estimate how long into the run you actually are at any given time. The concrete duration often feels deceptively longer than it actually is.

I was a little surprised that it was cool enough to produce frost on the ground, but really, it was perfect weather for running. The full moon and cloudless sky provided a nice backdrop, but I was also conscious of what was missing on my wrist, at least at first.

But slowly, my concerns about time melted away as I started noticing nature all around me. Beautifully manicured lawns plush with vegetation were grabbing me and diverting my attention away from my thoughts of seconds and minutes. The hills on the horizon, which I had run the day before, were now unsuccessfully containing the rising sun, now just starting to peak above their foggy crest. This was timeless running at its best. Time was no longer an issue, so it was also not a distraction. It was just nature and me.

I am not saying that I didn't notice the time when I left for my run, and you can be sure that when I got back to my room, the first thing I did was look at the clock, but time was merely a reference point, not an obsession as it has been for much of my running past. It was refreshing to know I was out enjoying the simplicity of running about four miles in about 40 minutes or so, instead of strict high tech documentation that I had just run 3.9735 miles in 39:47:12. It was running, plain and simple, the way nature had intended.

As the week progressed, so did my running. I got out every morning, and as I attained more familiarity with the roads, I found that I missed my watch less and less. I didn't need to know how one run compared to another from a pace per mile or total duration vantage point. I was just happy to be able to enjoy running in its purest form, surrounded only by my inner thoughts and outer awareness of a run as natural as its surroundings. When it comes to running, high technology is an option, not a mandate, and this past week drove that point home.

A little later today, I'll be heading to Houston for the week. I'll bring my watch, if I remember, but I won't feel obliged to wear it. At least not on every run.

Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco I left my watch in Alpharetta What is left in Houston remains to be seen.

Good running to all.

Michael

Michael Selman

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