As I’ve previously mentioned, running keeps me grounded. And while I enjoy spontaneity in my outings, I also experience a certain amount of comfort in establishing some routine — both in the day-to-day, and the week-to-week.
When I first arrived in Durango, a particular local bakery by the name of “Bread” came highly recommended by many. As the name suggests, “Bread” bakes bread — they bake a lot of it, they do it daily, and the result is delicious. Furthermore, they sell the previous day’s leftovers at half price (if you’re fortunate to arrive early enough) — good news for a frugal intern like me.
Thus, I’ve established my Monday morning ritual: a bread run.
The site of my new weekly pilgrimmage. (Credit: Shirley Buxton)
No more bombs!
Before sunrise, I lace up my shoes, sling an empty sack over my shoulder, and take off up the street into the dark. After about an hour, I end up at Bread where I pick out a handsome loaf (usually whole-wheat or sourdough), make the transaction, stuff the gluteny goodness into my bag, and bid the bakers good day. Exploring a new route every single time has kept it entertaining, and the doughmasters at Bread seem to get a kick out of my odd habit.
Foliage on the Animas River Trail during my return from Bread this morning.
There are other goodies too — scones, muffins, buns — all hot, sweet smelling, and tempting to the eye; but sadly my bread sack simply isn’t large enough. That said, the bread alone is worth a weekly run.
Fresh Palisade peaches with a hot slice of bread (from Bread) smeared with almond butter, drizzled with local clover honey -- that's something to smile about.
Everywhere I’ve ever lived, I develop a few favorite local businesses who receive my regular weekly business. Bread has the honor of becoming the first Durango establishment to receive the solarweasel seal of approval.
Shoe sponsors? Gel sponsors? Screw that — give me a bread sponsorship!
