h a l f b a k e r yLike gliding backwards through porridge.
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Since my childhood, apparently, I've been captivated by the image of a marathon runner reaching out and taking a cup of water held by someone standing on the sidelines, drinking it on the run and never breaking a stride. Being someone who is sometimes late and doesn't plan enough time to eat, I somehow
can't help picturing myself being similarly taken care of.
Call ahead and order what you want. In our cellular-happy world, this can happen in transit. The idea is that the delivery point is on the path you travel regularly--in the train station near work, a block away or at on the edge of the parking lot. As you're walking that last stretch, don your bib, which carries the number connected with your house account (which has already been debited for today's order). Then look for the person holding up a sign with your number, who will, as you approach, hold your breakfast, lunch, or cup of much-needed coffee at arm's length between light fingers. Whisk away your order as you hurry past, and arrive on time.
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This reminds me about reading about Dean Karnazes. He was an ultra-marathon runner who would run all night and order pizzas to where he intended to be in half an hour or so. |
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