Vista Point Run.   I live 15 miles from work, a short drive or hour long bike ride over my beloved Golden Gate  bridge.  Too long to run on a weekday, at least all the way.  But we’ve figured out a way to make the most of it.  Running halfway home, where a co-worker’s spouse picks the two of us up and drives us home.  We throw our gear in her car at the office,  then begin our run along the Embarcadero.  Dodging trolleys and taxis, along with tourists on scooters, in pedicabs and on foot, we warm up jogging through Fisherman’s Wharf.  At Aquatic Park, we pick up the pace slightly, as the Bridge comes into view and we see swimmers in wetsuits emerging from late afternoon workouts.   Heart rate climbs as we do the short but steep climb over Fort Mason, sprinting down to join the joggers along the Marina Green.  We hit the midway point at the edge of the Green, crossing the volleyball area that is empty now–but will be jammed with frolicking young life forms come summer.  We join the jogging path by the water that heads out to Crissy Field, the last gasps of sunset painting the GG bridge with its signature orange hue.  Sky constantly changing, bay in motion.  We begin the stiff climb up to the bridge, energized by some of the best views our planet has to offer. Gassed but feeling great, we frolic across the eastern sidewalk and voila, we’re at Vista Point, staring back across the water at Alcatraz and the flickering lights of the City, where my co-worker’s spouse picks us up and chauffeurs us the rest of the way.    Can’t beat that!