How irritating — that they would spread salt so liberally everywhere, not only in the streets, but on the smooth white sidewalks where I’d planned to run (and not a patch of snow in sight). Later I asked my Mom — she didn’t know, but agreed it must have been the City, which forced me to consider the possibility that the local population was so lacking in balance and agility that a late November snow-dusting was seen as potential calamity. In any case, due to the salt I cut my run short at 4 miles instead of 5 and stepped into a favorite coffee shop for my morning cappuccino, only to be confronted by a young woman behind the counter. I saw a pale white face, light-blue surgical mask, and a pair of hazel eyes glaring at me.
“We can’t serve you — it’s the health code.”
With raised eyebrow — “In Illinois. Really?”
“Even if it’s not against the law, it’s our right.”
So I left.
Once back at my hotel, I opened laptop, entered the mileage in my training log, and saw I’d finally crossed the boundary — I’d just passed my 10,000th mile of barefoot hiking, walking, and running. And then I went back out, still searching for my morning coffee….
The Long Brown Path 