Why, why, and why, you might justifiably ask? Well, in the interests of honesty about running post 50 (oh, who're we kidding here, I'm a well-over-60 runner). . . especially for running over 50 (I know, 60, but I'm trying to be inclusive, right?) when you've had a baby or four sit on your bladder for months at a time. . . Sometimes a runner has to find a toilet en route. And sometimes she has to find one relatively quickly. Sometimes she even plans her route to make sure one will be accessible.
In light of my recent posts on badassery (and how I have very little of said attribute), I thought perhaps you should know this. I don't think you can be a Badass Runner if you have to plot your marathons according to toilets. . . . On the other hand, the sheer audacity of snapping my red-faced, sweaty self in a mirror, in a public bathroom, that might earn me a Badass point or two, no?
And now, to make up for that spectacle, some more edifying photos, all taken on recent city runs. . . These seem to multiply in my digital photo albums, and I need to share some before clearing them out. . .
This centuries-old pole once graced a First Nations longhouse in a village that was forcibly "moved" just over a century ago. Ironically, it's a welcome pole. . . .
You might be right. . . .
But I'm not trying to break any speed records, and there is just so much beauty in such varied, fascinating forms once you start looking around. . . .I can't resist sharing some of it. These back racks, for example. Yes, they're just utilitarian, but the sweet curve of their metal arcs pleases me and seems worth remarking. . .