Already there.

Today I ran the last 2 miles of my 4 mile run with a 18-pack bud light box tucked under my arm.
It was just too big to pass by.

Actually, that's not entirely true.

The first time I saw it I ran right by it. It was on a steep uphill and I trudged by slowly and got about 20 ft in front of it.

But during those 20 ft a nagging, sinking, heavy feeling took over and so, (not wanting to spend the rest of my run with this feeling) I circled back for the box.

Darn you tree hugger heart of mine.

I tucked it under my sweaty left arm and pretended it was part of my running ensemble.

What?

Doesn't everyone run with an empty Budlight case under their arm?

Okay, I'll admit it. It was awkward. The rest of my run just felt - a little trashy.

But, the minute I picked it up it reminded me of a funny moment shared by a bus-load of Vineyard-Bound weekend warriors.

***

Memorial Day 2010.

We hop aboard the Palmer Ave bus and quickly notice that it is packed.

PACKED!

Somehow, we'd all managed to park in Palmer Ave, which was technically "full" already due to heavy weekend visitation. The rest were parking miles closer to the Bourne Bridge, but we had all outwitted, outsmarted and outplayed the masses and tucked ourselves in to the "regular" lot.

Sometimes it really is all about survival of the fittest.

Dogs outnumbered people, coolers were heavy and awkward, golf clubs are never easy, overstuffed duffles seemed to be strewn in every corner of the bus, and each child aboard the bus just wanted to stretch their legs. My two children included in that last observation.

Also, did I mention the dogs? And not all of them get along in such tight spaces.

Dec, Nonie, Dame and I found a nook and settled in.

With only 13 minutes left until our ferry set sail, it was not surprising that our bus remained stationary.

Why get to the ferry on time? That would be way, way, way too relaxing and predictable.

These bus driver like to wait until the absolute last minute to take off through Falmouth - keeping the busload of eager passengers wondering:

Will we make it?

Or, won't we?

Just when we were all certain no other human, dog or unnecessary piece of luggage could fit on the bus, two male twenty somethings hopped on board. Both with large duffles, both in flip flops and shades (the second was preppier than the first) - one lugged a surfboard and the other had a golf bag. A case of beer wedged under his arm.

They awkwardly stepped forward hoping no one would call them out (for making us miss/almost miss our ferry). They were also clearly hoping the impossible would happen: elbow room would somehow appear....

And in true Vineyard form, it did.

A loud shout came from the back of the bus:

"We got room for that beer right here!"

and then another:

"I can slide that beer between the emergency door and this stair railing!".

and, not to be outdone (a 60-ish year old male said):

"My father doesn't need his seat, bring that case my way..."

To which, a thunderous roar of laughter erupted through the bus.

Even the elderly father smiled.

Dec and Nonie broke out in laughter, though they had no idea what they (or we) were all laughing about.

My mood quickly changed from anxious and time conscious to relaxed and ready to savor my precious on-Island time. It really seemed like most of those on the bus followed suit.

Even though we hadn't gotten to the ferry terminal yet -

and hadn't even laid eyes on the Island....

In many ways - we'd already made it to the Vineyard.