The perils of moving apartments include learning the buses that stop near your new apartment. In my haste to get home last night after eating free Punch Pizza, I boarded the wrong bus and wound up by the ghetto Kmart near midtown. Umm what. The letters after the numbers on the bus line actually mean something? Next time a friend offers me a ride, I'll swallow any guilt I have towards wasting their time and accept the offer. Fast forward an hour later, after taking another bus and walking over a mile, I finally arrive at my doorstep. The entire walk home, I had been attempting to convince myself that my walk constituted exercise, which meant I wouldn't have to go running later. Well, guess what, evil part of my brain, NOT THIS TIME. I put on my running shorts and headed out the door.
The next challenge involved in living in a new place: not knowing a running route. I'm attempting to stick to my guns and not pay for internet, so without the aid of Google maps, I decided to run in the general direction towards Lake Calhoun and run for about 30 minutes.
The good news: I ran for 30 solid minutes and felt really good about it when I got home.
The bad news: I ran past a cemetery and saw way too many freshly dug graves. creepy!
Oh, yeah, and the bonus that I got for taking the wrong bus: I saw one homeless man dressed as a clown, slap another homeless man in a wheelchair across the face on Nicollet Mall.
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