Cooler by the lake...
4pm and the sun trickles through the window of the 21st floor window. It's late in the day, work is just about over and we've been blessed with our first taste of summer...68 and sunny...slight breeze twisting off of Lake MIchigan...and from my vantage point, all of the 20 somethings have hit the bike path for an afternoon retreat.
I lace up my New Balance and head down to the lobby. East on Monroe, I loosen my legs up to a steady trot. The cool shadows refresh the skin on my arm and legs....that for 8 hours...or 8 months...sat covered by microfibers and business casual. Hitting the lakeshore path, I head north towards the yacht club...dodging roller bladers, bicyclists, and of course the running crowd. But this isn't any ordinary day, this isnt any ordinary bike path and these aren't your ordinary runners...many of the passerby's could be ripped from the pages of Maxim or Muscle and Fitness. This is Chicago...and when the weather turns...the layers come off...and the libidos and ladies come out of hybernation.
As i approach the boat house, my stride is strong and I'm feeling the buzz of endorphins push through my veins. But I can sense a pursuit...something...or someone...is just a few steps behind me and has yet to make a pass. I pull to the right to provide the needed room...but still...nothing. The boat house is maybe 100 yards to my front...and as I trick myself into needing a sip of water and maybe some shade....it also gives me the chance to survey my stalker. To my surprise...
5'6"...135lbs...blonde hair pulled tightly into a pony...black dri-fit shirt, perhaps a little tighter than she'd prefer....or not. Light blue running shorts with a small slit on each hip....her strong, tan thighs revealing miles of effort on this path. A slight break of sweat on her temple...but not enough to run her barely-there mascara. Her full lips moving with the rythym of her breathing...a teaser to the scenario she's played out in her head 100 times before this moment.
As we approached the relative seclusion of the boathouse, my curiousity piqued...
"Can i help you with anything?" I asked....very aware of the double entendre.
WIth a wry, knowing smile....the mystery runner drops her pony tail, her blonde hair touching the tips of her shoulders. Licking her strawberry lips and placing her curves against the concrete wall....she beckons..."It's always cooler here by the lake....isn't it?".
Warmer, I'd say.