Yankees weekends are different than any other. As this weekend approached, I accepted that I was going to be devoting all of my hours to being at the park, sleeping and, if all worked out accordingly, getting in my distance run.

The last wasn’t exactly negotiable, as a slight foot injury had mostly sidelined me the week before. But it’s tricky to fit in the couple of hours I might like to devote to running into a nonexistant window.

Or so you’d think.

Today, I put in a workday that started in the early morning and continued into the early evening. I met up with Tom, who scored sibling points by waiting outside the park until I could finish up work and change into the running gear I’d brought with me. He essentially waited outside Fenway so that he could take my bag and allow me to run home unburdened by stuff.

Sure, he was also seeing if he could score a ticket to the game somewhere, but it was definitely 90/10 in favor of helping me out. That’s pretty tremendous, if I do say so myself.

Armed with my hydration belt and my iPod, I set out from Fenway for my run back home…by way of all over the place. Boston, Cambridge and Somerville were granted some miles. I received a high five from a complete stranger in Central Square, which was funny, and was pleasantly surprised to be able to offer a run-by greeting to a friend as I ran by and ran home.

So I worked all day, ran ten miles and was sociable.

In other words, I somehow managed to rock it.

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