The light wind brushed against my face while I stood on Santa Monica Pier. A long time had lapsed since my last journey. I looked at my legs and asked if they were up for the task. 150 some miles pales in comparison to the 3281 miles I took on a couple years ago. But, as youth gives way to age the body becomes less obedient. Never the less I already had committments lined up and I wasn’t about to fail. I do this to myself to keep life interesting.
I delayed my take off by several hours. The procrastination was partly because I thought of the crazy hardships I had endured. Perhaps I needed a sign. I’ve learned the same thing many times; The world always provided everything necessary for success. Like magic my sign appeared. It was in the form of Bob Wildomire. He was known as Mr. Route 66. Seeing a memorial for him on the pier reminded me of the reason I took on unique adventures.
Without further delay I took off and headed for Pico Rivera. I had forgotten how annoying city running could be. I hit more stoplights over the course of the day than ususal. I worried about my starts and stops because I had been a little unsure of my leg. I had a little spill in a sport other than running. Luckily, the leg felt great.
My late lunch was at a restaurant called Pips. I wanted carbs to fuel my run. I expected a big plate full of noodles. But as nice restaurants go, I received a small plate with really tasty food. I know lots of people enjoy the act of eating but I just look at the experience as fueling. I can’t say I was disappointed but I wasn’t fully filled. 
Day one really passed rather quickly. I ran right to my host hotel, the wonderful Howard Johnson in Pico Rivera and jumped straight into my salt bath. I needed to recover ASAP. The reason is that I need to run to McGee Elementary in the morning to have an event for a cafeteria full of third, fourth, and fifth graders. Now I know tomorrow will be insane.
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