"I don't run"....

*warning: what follows, is a very long post, essentially about nothing, but somewhat amusing if you enjoy imagining me looking ridicolous*

When we were in Europe, Brenda would randomly turn to me as we were walking somewhere and say "want to run?". For no good reason. I would turn to her point blank and say: "I don't run". Sometimes, we had to run...with backpacks on, in flip flops, across roads and train stations. And in this scenario, I could do it. But just for no good reason, absolutely not.

It makes me think of Lynn: "I don't run for the bus". One time we missed the bus in Guelph, and we walked in the cold for another twenty minutes, just because Lynn didn't run for the bus. Which always makes me wonder now, who is the type of person who runs for the bus?

All of this to say, the past week and a half has been filled with frantic running:

Bid Closing Sinclair Centre
About a week ago, I closed a tender downtown at this horrible building. It has about four different towers, with seperate elevators. What does closing a tender mean (the construction lingo)? Novacom has to submit an estimated price for a project we hope to do. This price only comes in about 10 minutes before it is due, so someone is meant to be sitting waiting for the price, and then run it into the office. But no, I was not sitting abd waiting. I was running, and yes I meaning dodging people in the streets through downtown Vancouver. Then up the stairs of the wrong tower, then down, then up again. Eventually I found an delightful old security guard who calmly told me directions before I booked it away from him. I did get there, but it was literally stamped at the last exact minute it could be there.

Granville Island
This weekend, we went to "Its a Wonderful Life" at Granville Island Stage (which by the way, I absolutely loved...you must go see it, sooo well acted and delightful). Matt had to work in the morning and we got the wires crossed on the time to meet. So we get to Granville Island at 1.54 (the play starts at 2.00 pm). I got out of the car, ran to the parking lot, secured Matt a spot (stood in it, while other cars drove by thinking I was crazy). Then Matt and I ran to the theatre...pretty much the whole way. In dress clothes. Brandon and Lindsday (who were later than us) actually saw us running. She said it was a sight to see. She considered rolling down the window to yell at us, but did not follow through on the impulse. She figured running people might not want to be yelled at. Good call on her part. We got there, as the doors were shutting, into our seats for the whole play.

Bid Closing Linden Architecture
Today, once again, I found myself running down Vancouver streets. This time, picture me, carrying a christmas basket, all tied up with a bow, a tender envelope, and holding my cell phone for directions. At one point, I put the phone in my pocket to run across six lanes of traffic. I had the wrong address to start with, so I drove to two different locations in vain. By the time I got close to the correct address, I just started to run with my mom giving me a play by play of where to go next. It was crazy. People must have thought I had gone mad. Delievered the tender in the nick of time.

You might not have wanted to hear my frantic running stories, but there you have them. The point that I am shocked by in all of this is this : sometimes running actually makes a difference. You actually make it there quicker, and save those few short minutes you really needed in order to make it there on time. I mean, there isn't a lot of dignity in running clad in full dress clothes downtown, but it got the job done.

Maybe Brenda is onto something...