Today I drove out to the beach and ran there. Overestimated the wind chill there and over-dressed for the occasion.
I lack both the abs and the self-irony to opt for ditching the fleece to run in my light blue bra, so I suffered a little. But the water was cold each time the tide caught me, and the sand felt great on my feet.
I think I may make this a weekly habit - or find out which bus drives there on weekday mornings. I can deal with the spattering of wood, and even the sinking sand that covers the rotting seaweed on the south end.
I gave my greatest smile to a sour-looking woman whose face broke into sunshine.
Oh, God. I'm losing my bitchy edge.