to the pier

saturday mornings. just when you think the world is clenching every last 'z,' there's santa monica. every saturday morning (when possible), i lull out of bed, eat my breakfast, and run to the santa monica pier. from dodging fellow runners to hopping over dogs, i feel alive. awake. in a world far removed from the saturday lazies. aah! the smell of freshly brewed coffee, sipped by the Ladies of Leisure in the streetside cafes. ooh! the sight of roasted potatoes, enjoyed by the Old Men of 'Wood (my take on brentwood). and then i finally make it to the boardwalk...

for reasons unknown, a second wind invariably comes over me as soon as i reach ocean avenue. perhaps it's because i know my run is coming to an end. or maybe it's the anticipation of perusing the stands at the farmer's market. the ripe melons. the heirloom tomatoes. the gentleman who concocts a moisturizing lotion from a mixture of who-knows-what.

with my second wind, i feel so much more aware of my surroundings. this morning, for instance, i couldn't help but notice all of the exercise groups along the boardwalk. tae-bo. yoga. a running team. a pseudo-boot camp (or at least that's what it looked like to me). all of these people, coming together on a saturday morning to refresh themselves. to socialize. to disprove the notion that saturday mornings were meant to sleep until noon. nope. not in santa monica. not on the journey to the pier.