Playground reading

My favorite measure of a really good day is one in which at some point during a 12-hour period, I have the chance to sit and read the New York Times in the sunlight while the kids play happily together. Today was just such a day. After walking to the town center where they each bought a snack and I talked for a while with a couple from our church who were out for a stroll, we continued on to the school playground. Even though, now that school is back in session, they have the opportunity to play there for at least 20 minutes every weekday during recess, they still had a great time there; clearly novelty isn't important for them to have fun. Or maybe it was the novelty of being there with each other rather than their classmates, at least for Holly.

I sat on a bench, not really watching, just letting them have fun on their own. I did see them clamber up and down the slide a few times, and play hide-and-seek amidst the climbing structure, but mostly I read last Sunday's New York Times, which is a luxury I savor. I do most of my "real" reading, the daily Boston Globe and whatever novel or memoir I'm in the midst of, while I ride my stationary bike in the morning. Getting to the Times, much as I love it, is an extra for me, something I get to do only if there are no other obligations I can or should meet at the moment.

This past summer, that happened a lot, and I felt lucky each time. We'd go to the pond in an adjacent town where we buy a membership every summer, and the kids would play together in the water and I'd sit on the beach and read the New York Times, usually the Style section, book review and NYT magazine from the previous Sunday, sometimes the This Week in Review section as well. Every summer I hear so much about "beach reading," but for a long time, it seemed like a luxury that was out of my grasp. I didn't used to get to the beach that much, and when I did, I had to keep my eyes glued to my children, not to a book. This year, I did a lot of reading at the beach, and it was wonderful.

Later in the afternoon I ran the Stearns Street Loop: 3.2 miles for my 757th day of streak running. Though not as sluggish as yesterday, it wasn't the best. I still felt kind of tired and unmotivated, which I'm afraid is often the case these days, right at times that I should be enjoying running the most: a beautiful, cool, sunny afternoon when I'm not in any big hurry to get back for anything. My knees are fine, my back is fine: orthopedically I haven't changed a bit, and yet it feels like in terms of spirit, I'm just not the runner I used to be. I still want to do it, but it doesn't often bring the sense of elation it once did.

Sometimes it still does. Like last week, the two days I went in the late morning while the kids were at school. So maybe for whatever reason, physiologically late mornings are better than late afternoons.