Ok, so today I took Lagniappe out to Harpers Ferry, stopping at the flea market along the way. Lagniappe likes to walk around the flea market, getting petted and seeing all the other dogs, and I had a mission: I was there to acquire some walkers and wheelchairs for Good Shepherd Caregivers, a local nonprofit that helps area disabled people by providing medical equipment that the people might not otherwise be able to afford. I try to support Good Shepherd because they were there when I needed help a couple of years ago and when I can, I buy used equipment like I know that they need and I donate it. (If you want to help, follow the link...They can alway use more.)

After getting what I could, (and locking my keys in my van, proving again that no good deed goes unpunished) I took Lagniappe to the Ferry. Parking was, as usual, nearly impossible to find, but as luck would have it, I saw a car-sized gap in the middle of a long line of motorcycles. It appeared as if the bikes had backed in in front of and behind a car which had then pulled out. The question now was whether or not I could parallel park my full-sized van in that gap without hitting a bike front or rear. (As a former truck driver, I tend to park by Braille, reasoning that those things on either end of my vehicle are called "bumpers" for a reason.) But bumping a bike is different than bumping a car, truck, or SUV, in that the bikes will topple over, even perhaps to the point of falling against each other like a row of dominoes. That would, of course, be bad. But since they weren't my bikes, I figured I'd give it a try. I love a challenge.

I lined up next to the bikes ahead of the gap and backed into the hole, stopping just short of the bikes behind. I then pulled forward as far as I could to straighten out, then finished up by easing back perfectly into the slot without dinging even one bike. I am THAT good. And as I got out to admire my handiwork, I heard someone's hands clapping from the restaurant balcony above. I looked up and there had to be at least twenty people, all attired in biker leather, watching me over the rail. Two or three actually applauded me, and the rest looked mildly irked. Ah well... I'm the guy with the German Shepherd so it's not like I'm worried. I gave then a rather theatrical bow and took Lagniappe off to the ice cream store.

The ice cream shop is the Swiss Miss store. Best ice cream in the WV/MD/VA area. And Lagniappe is known and loved there, particularly by Sharon, the wonderfully nice lady who is as much a fixture there as is the store. (She actually used to own it before selling it and staying on as an employee.) She always gives Lagniappe an ice cream cone of two, handing it out the window for him to snap up like a shark. (He'll cry until he gets one.) Then we walked down to the conflux of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers and spent some time talking to tourists and enjoying the view before heading out.

We drove back to the park entrance and I parked my van and grabbed my running foot. As I put it on, I noticed a big abraded spot on the sleeve right over the knee that wasn't there before. Just great...this obviously happened yesterday when Lagniappe tripped me with his toy. Sigh. Fortunately it won't affect the performance but it's definitely noticeable (as if the rest of the leg isn't)and those sleeves aren't free or even cheap.

I hit the road and ran back to the bus turn-around then back to the van again, a distance of 1.2 miles. It was hard towards the end, but I managed to finish without stopping. Again I was reminded that running outdoors for real is harder than just keeping up with a treadmill. But I finished and it's another benchmark on my progression back to where I used to be. If I can do a mile or 1.2 miles now, eventually I'll get up to where I can do a ten-miler or maybe even a whole marathon someday. I'll only know if I keep at it.

Now I'm home, and I'm going to have a shower then a nap on the couch. I think I'll watch a DVD'd episode or two of Torchwood tonight and maybe finish up be taking Lagniappe for a moonlight walk.