Mile Markers

Running Santa Barbara

At Mile One I am running down Santa Barbara’s legendary State Street where local shops intersperse the mega-chains: the “Only in Santa Barbara” souvenir shop sits ironically just past Macy’s.  I stride by Anna’s Taco Kitchen and Whiskey Richards and notice a parking lot attendant semi-successfully attempting to stay awake next to a sign advertising the grand opening of Rusty’s Pizza Parlor, which doesn’t seem to generate much traffic at half past six on a Saturday morning.  Even State Street Coffee is without a customer.

At Mile Two I run by Santa Barbara Harbor and count the marinas down from four to one where sleepy sailboats sit silently like an ocean graveyard of naked flagpoles in the quiet of a new day.  The unmistakable smell of bacon wafts deliciously from the Breakwater Café while busy workers in neon vests pickup Friday night’s trash to make way for the Saturday crowds.

At Mile Three the tourist corridor has receded and I run southwest along the Pacific Ocean, listening only to my labored breathing occasionally punctuated by the squawk of a passing seagull.  Elderly couples who dreamed of retiring on the American Riviera stroll by on carefully manicured and palm tree lined pathways, occasionally  stopping to sit on the park benches facing the ocean where massive ships sit equidistant on the hazy horizon like a real-life game of Battleship.

At Mile Three-point-Five I reach the mid-life crisis of my run.  I am at the end of beautiful Shoreline Park and the beginning of what appears to be a normal residential area, as if residing along the Pacific Ocean in this remarkable city could ever be considered normal.  It is time to turn around.  I will see nothing new from here on.

At Mile Four everything is the same but now seen from a different angle.  The seagull still squawks, and the ships have not moved.

At Mile Five the sailboats are yawning awake, and I am more tired than when I first noticed them as they slept.  I still smell bacon.

At Mile Six the first customer has arrived at State Street Coffee.  The parking lot attendant is now walking laps to stay awake.  I am now running uphill and noticeably perspiring.

At Mile Seven my run is complete.  I see my wife out for a morning walk as I return to the bed and breakfast where we are staying so that I can officiate a wedding this afternoon.  It has been a good run.

My wedding remarks are complete and printed, but I could say all I need to say just from this morning run.  Life is exactly like a good, long run, and a wedding is an important mile marker along the way.  Run well, my friends, and enjoy every step of the journey.

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