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Huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolf, I found myself reluctantly running alongside the Lake Washington shoreline mid-morning Sunday. What ever happened to Sunday being a day of rest? Far ahead, leading the way like a pace car in an auto race, Carrie widened her distance and disappeared around the bend. Choking and sputtering, I stumbled off the path, nearly colliding with two runners barreling behind me and I caught their dirty looks as I stopped to perch upon a boulder by the water’s edge. A rock never felt so soft. I scanned the lake, catching my breath. Like smelling salts, a faint odor of sea brine mixed with the invigorating scent of fall revived me. A cluster of sailboats swept the waves determined to get in another day of sailing before the season ended. I paid little atte
