Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Insert Lame Headline Here

Welcome to Lame Post Friday, where once again I shall try to entertain with random observations and half-baked philosophy. Full disclosure: I’m sitting at my computer with my fingers on the keyboard, hoping something pops into my brain.

I just went back and re-read my Lame Friday Post from the day after Thanksgiving (it was a rare Friday I had off, as is today, so I thought it might help). I ended with a bit of half-baked philosophy I’d like to expand upon if I may (of course I may, it’s my blog; I just felt like adding “if I may”) (I’m in kind of a silly mood, you may have noticed).

I remembered the saying “No life is wasted; you can always stand as a bad example to others.” I’ve always taken comfort in that saying. Don’t be like me, everybody! But then I got to thinking, to really make my bad example useful, don’t I need to actually show it to people? Wouldn’t it be more helpful if I exposed all my stupid mistakes, via blog or memoir, so others could learn? EEEEK! I don’t want to do that! People will just have to observe me all on their own, if they’re interested. If I ever write my memoirs (doubtful; I write fiction), it’s going to be all lies. Any friends and family reading this, if you want me to make up some good ones about you, let me know.

Well that didn’t take up much time. I did have a random observation the other day. When I was walking Tabby, I think I saw a bona fide crazy old lady (my computer is telling me bona fide is wrong, but I just looked it up in the dictionary. Stupid computer!). At least, I didn’t stare, so I don’t know how old she was. Then again, I call myself a crazy old lady but to some I’m just a young pup.

I was walking Tabby, wearing my own crazy old lady hat, when I saw walking toward me on the opposite side of the street a lady who looked like she was wearing a similar hat. When she got a little closer, I could see it was wide brimmed like mine, but a nicer shape and a bit fancier. The lady was dressed all in black, right down to her high heeled boots. She strode down the road, grandly ignoring a perfectly good sidewalk. Her chest was out, her head was high. Normally when I meet other pedestrians or runners, I call a greeting or remark, but I felt a little intimidated by this woman. She looked neither left nor right, and I didn’t even feel that I should be taking a closer look at the hat, as I was. I put my eyes front too and kept walking.

Oh, speaking of calling greetings to people, here is another observation. Walking Tabby yesterday, I saw a lady with a baby carriage crossing at a four way stop. I was just reaching the corner as she was halfway across, and Tabby stopped to sniff a promising post. The car going one way stopped, the truck going the opposite direction kept going! She was still in the first half of her cross when he went by, but still! I yelled, “The nerve of that guy, not stopping for a baby carriage!” The lady didn’t say anything, but the toddler in the carriage gave us a friendly wave and yelled, “Hi!” Of course I waved back.

OK, two observations, one philosophy. I say that’s not a bad Friday. I’ll get off the computer now, and seek out some Mohawk Valley adventures so I can come up with a non-lame post for Saturday.

I Love a Monster or Three

I enjoyed writing my post about the Swamp Women, so I thought I’d continue the idea with another cheesy, uh, classic horror movie. This one has a monster. Three, in fact.

Monster from a Pre-Historic Planet is a Japanese movie from 1967, and the dubbing is pretty much as jarring as you’d expect it to be. I might have gotten used to it, but some of the characters seemed to change voices as they went along. Still, a monster movie from the ’60s, what’s not to like?

I was a little disappointed, though, because the words “pre-historic planet” made me think space travel would be involved, or at least a cool asteroid or alien spaceship landing. But, no, they were apparently referring to the pre-history of this planet. It probably sounded better in Japanese.

We open on a ship. One lady is sunbathing while some scientist-looking types are fooling around with beakers and test tubes. Scenes back on the mainland inform us of the mission. They are in search of exotic animals to populate a tropical paradise themed resort being build by a girly magazine which is celebrating its 50th anniversary. If that last bit got anybody’s hopes up, sorry. The girl sunbathing in the opening — in shorts if I recall correctly — is the only bit of flesh we get. (Not that I was looking.) (Although I wouldn’t have complained if a couple of those guys would have taken their shirts off.)

Soon the scientists and I think a couple of journalists (I knew I might be writing about this, but I still didn’t pay a great deal of attention. Hey, I need to relax on the weekends, too) arrive at a tropical island that coincidentally closely resembles the model of the tropical resort in the magazine president’s office. There they find a giant egg. I’m thinking giant omelet (hadn’t had dinner yet), but of course they think scientific find, something from millions of years ago. It does not occur to anybody that whoever laid the egg might still be around, even when it hatches, revealing a surprisingly cute baby monster, which, of course, they must take back to civilization with them.

I’m sure you see where this is going. It isn’t long before two big monsters come along looking for junior. Then people are fleeing as the monsters stomp on buildings. It’s pretty obviously done with miniatures, because the buildings are not very detailed and there are no people there while the buildings are actually being stomped. Still, I thought the effects were pretty good for the time. The movie spends a lot more time on building stomping than on character interaction, but you’ll have that.

There is some character interaction. The magazine president has a daughter who wants a mommy. There is a minor love triangle amongst the girl photographer, the journalist and the head scientist. This gives an opportunity for a little bit of anti-feminist rhetoric, but they don’t spend too much time on that. I don’t recall any lessons learned on not upsetting the eco-system, but parenthood gets a shout out.

What I did not understand was how the monsters became extinct except for those three. The things could fly, breathe under water and shoot lasers from their mouths. What could they not survive? I guess the ice age, but I’m no scientist.

It was a fun movie. I’m sorry it apparently did not spawn — or should I say hatch? — a sequel.

Swamp Women or Mannix in Bondage

This past weekend I asked Steven if he would like to watch a “Horror Movie Classic” with me. I put it in quotes, because I am quoting the DVD box. “50 Horror Classics,” actually. I guess “classic” has different definitions, depending on who you ask. I would use a different c word to describe most of these offerings: cheesy.

Steven picked Swamp Women from 1955. I would not call it a horror movie, exactly. Maybe suspense/exploitation. And not as exploitative as you might think watching the opening credits. They show all these pictures of women with their hands tied behind their backs. Ooh. I noted that the director was Roger Corman. That alone makes it work a watch, I thought.

The movie opens with what looked to me like pretty obvious stock footage of a parade interspersed with actual movie scenes. The guy who would later play Mannix and this fairly sexy girl are flirting. She is after his money, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He has oil wells. She volunteers to accompany him into the swamp, where he has to go for some poorly defined business reason, to show him how tough she can be (any guesses on how that’s going to work out?).

Having thus set up the victims, the movie moves on to the villains. They are a set of gangster molls in a prison. They know where some diamonds are, so the head cop sends the best policewoman he knows into the prison to infiltrate the gang. The idea is she’ll help the girls escape then follow them to the diamonds. This turns out to be surprisingly easy and little time is spent in the prison (so no shower scene; I told you it was not as exploitative as they pretend).

I don’t like to say much else about the plot, because I hate to give too much away. I will mention that Mannix is the one that spends most of the picture with his hands tied behind his back. I’m sure some female viewers found this a delightful image. I’m not sure what it says, if anything, about Roger Corman’s fantasies. I’ll leave the reader to his or her own speculations.

The most unrealistic aspect of the picture to me was the utter lack of insects in the swamp. Not one mosquito was slapped. Did we miss the scene where they slathered on the Deet?

On the whole, I enjoyed the movie. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel the urge to pop it in again. However, if I happen to be in the mood to see a picture with a few good girl fights and Mannix in bondage, I’m all set.

Fun at the Country Kitchen

I had mentioned briefly that I went out to breakfast Sunday morning. I thought I’d talk a little more about that and give another shout out to Liz’s Country Kitchen on South Main Street in Herkimer, NY.

Liz’s Country Kitchen is run by our friends Liz and Donna, who previously operated the Neighborhood Diner on North Washington Street. Steven and I went there for a previous blog post and were delighted to find that the same delicious food and hometown atmosphere prevailed.

Steven was industriously at work when I set out Sunday morning. I luckily found a parking space right in front of the diner. Both Donna and Liz greeted me and were sorry not to see Steven as well. I ordered my favorite of a breakfast sandwich on a hard roll and started writing a letter to my sister (I hope she doesn’t read this post and wonder why I haven’t finished it yet; I’ve been busy). I overheard snatches of conversation as I ate.

“…a millionaire with one foot in the grave,” a lady said.

“And the other on a banana peel,” I added, quoting my grandmother.

Liz was looking for a way to hang some wind chimes on the door. Several people told her to cut out the racket, so of course she jingled them some more.

“Maybe you could have them made into earrings,” I suggested. Liz and I often admire each others’ earrings.

“You could use them to take up belly dancing,” said another diner. He seemed rather taken with the idea of Liz as a belly dancer.

Some neighbors of Donna’s came in. They were talking about some obnoxious partiers who had disturbed the peace in their neighborhood. I’m not sure where that neighborhood is, but I hope things settle down. There’s nothing wrong with having a good time on a Saturday night, but there’s no reason to wake the neighbors.

I greatly enjoyed my breakfast. I told Liz and Donna I’d do my best to bring Steven next time (I think people prefer us as a couple). I left refreshed and ready to take on the rest of my day.

Liz’s Country Kitchen is open seven days for breakfast and lunch. Check it out!

Mega Millions Musings

I was never more in need of a Middle-aged Musings Monday than I am today.

I composed that line in my head as I drove into work, but then I had such a good laugh I started feeling better about everything. I am happy to announce that I am one of the winners of the Mega Millions Jackpot. A portion of it, anyways. Five cents. That’s right, I have a one fortieth share of a two dollar winning ticket.

A co-worker went around last week collecting $1 from anyone who wanted to participate. Well, you often hear about groups of workers going in together and sharing big winnings. The odds are astronomically opposed, of course, but sometimes somebody wins. Suppose it was my co-workers. Did I want to be the one person showing up for work on Monday because I was too cheap to throw in a lousy buck? I did not.

A friend of mine says it’s a dollar’s worth of fantasy. I’ve found it’s worth a lot more than that in laughs.

First we had to question Joanie’s level of wheeler-dealership (if it were not all in fun we’d be questioning her integrity, but remember, folks, these are just silly jokes). She could have kept the forty bucks and just said she bought the tickets. Nobody really believed that one, but some of us thought she might tell us we didn’t win BUT… Actually, I was of the opinion she would send us a post card from the Bahamas telling us we didn’t win.

Joanie circumvented such speculation by distributing photocopies of all the numbers. I praised her honesty and told her my Bahamas prediction. She admitted it was tempting.

“Cindy who? Cindy who?” she said, practicing not knowing me when she was a millionaire.

As you may have noted in the news, there were no million dollar winners in the Mohawk Valley. I came to work all set to tell Joanie how disillusioned I was. Not being a millionaire was just one more burden added to my Monday Malaise. Oh, stop playing that miniature violin, I wasn’t really dragging that bad, I’m just telling a story.

And then in walks Joanie, announcing that we are all winners to the tune of two dollars. Two dollars! Yay! It’s the principle of the thing, after all.

“You want the nickel?” she asked.

Actually, Joanie intends to reinvest our winnings in two more tickets. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head if one of them won?

Yet Another Running Post

Did I mention the most interesting thing I do these days is run?

I mentioned on Facebook that I thought I’d run up the hill to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC). That gave me a little motivation. Of course, that is one of my favorite Sunday runs. The road to the college is less traveled on a Sunday. Also, I haven’t been to work (usually) and don’t have much I have to do after the run, so an extra strenuous run is in order.

I had previously gone to breakfast and gone shopping. I was just picking up a few things but it annoyingly necessitated three stops. Still, that meant it was about an hour since I’d eaten by the time I got home. The clouds looked threatening, so I thought I’d get while the gettin’ was good, as the saying goes.

As I ran down German Street toward the college, I thought I saw a dog I know named Nicky. I should have known it wasn’t him, because he’s usually out walking much earlier. In my defense, my running glasses are a good three prescriptions ago (how well do you need to see while running? Stuff I might run into is usually pretty big). I ran across the street in hopes of petting a friend, quickly saw it was not the same dog or owner, thought I might pet a cute strange dog, but only succeeded in upsetting the pooch. He jumped, barked and growled; the owner pulled on the leash and told him to behave. I apologized and kept running. I felt really stupid as I re-crossed the street, because it must have looked as if I had crossed the street specifically to upset a dog. Oh dear.

Now I was running faster than I’m used to, as a result of crossing the street twice in rapid succession. I thought I ought to slow down to an easier pace, but I am really not that good at pace. My body tends to run at the speed it wants to run. Usually, I admit, not very fast. As soon as I started up the hill, the slow pace came naturally. I did the trick of looking at my feet, so I wouldn’t notice how big the hill was. That worked great; I barely noticed the gradient. Then, of course, being human, I had to look up to see where I was. Yikes! But I have run that hill many times now and made it to the top every time. I had confidence.

The problem with putting a major hill right in the middle of your run is, you get to the top of the hill and you’re tired, but you have to keep running. I looked at the view of Herkimer to distract myself. Gorgeous. Was it just Herkimer I was seeing, or could I see Ilion and/or Mohawk? I looked for landmarks I might recognize even at the distance, realized I was drifting out into the road and stopped looking. Once the gradient evened out, I didn’t even feel too tired. This running is all right.

I turned toward the back road to go back down into town and added a few steps by going down a little stretch past a Do Not Enter sign. I know, they are talking about cars, not middle aged ladies running slowly, but I like to pretend I’m a rebel. Soon I was going downhill and life was sweet.

The back road to HCCC is longer, twistier and a little less steep than the front way. I must run up that way next time. The back way is the way down on the DARE 5K. I saw the little path the DARE run takes, with the gate closed and locked as it usually is. That was a big motivation for me to run the DARE 5K, to see where that little path went. I saw where a runner could easily get around the gate and go down the path, but I refrained. It’s one thing to be a rebel, but running down a closed path is just dumb. Suppose something stupid happened like a sprained ankle or a heart attack (I am 48 years old)? Would I be likely to encounter a kind stranger to help me? I had another rebel opportunity a block later anyways, when I defied a No Left Turn sign.

So my run was pretty OK. I encountered a couple of other runners and told them, “Looking good!” I said “Good morning,” to a some pedestrians. My dog was very happy to see me when I got home and graciously walked my cool down with me. I hope to find other Mohawk Valley adventures sometime, but for now I highly recommend running in Herkimer, NY.

Another Good Run, So There!

There are going to be a lot of running blogs between now and the Boilermaker. This is pretty much what I am doing right now: work, Harvey rehearsals, and run. Running makes the best posts.

I ran later than normal on a day off today, because I went to help work on the set for Harvey. Harvey, in case you had forgotten or never knew, is the play I’m in with Ilion Little Theatre. For the last play I was in, I barely made it to rehearsals and almost never to set construction, due to the retail hours I was then working. Now I work days with many weekends off, so I was happy to go try to help this morning. I don’t know that I helped much. I held a couple of things for others. It helped me, though, because I had some good laughs with some nice people. I love Ilion Little Theatre.

So I put on shorts and short-sleeves to run, because the thermostat in my house said the outdoor temperature was 44 degrees. Having been outside, I suspected it was colder, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. Right away my hands were cold. Oh dear, was this going to be an uncomfortable run? Never mind, keep running. At least the rest of me would probably warm up.

I ran a hill I know of out Main Street. I had to cross German Street, but that wasn’t too bad with Saturday afternoon traffic. Up I went. It’s a pretty good hill. When I went to turn right to get to the down slope, I ran across the middle of the road, to travel the shortest distance. That was the one time a car happened to be coming. Oops. Luckily, the car turned into a driveway before I was actually in its way.

Now I was going downhill. Aaahh! A great, effortful hill out of the way and I was not even a third of the way into my intended time. What a great feeling! I suppose somebody else may have sought out another hill, just to be that way. I merely kept running.

I ran by a couple of No Parking signs outside of a house. No worries there; I wasn’t about to park it just then. I saw a van parked near one of the signs, but perhaps the sign was not talking to him. I turned onto the little path over what used to be the hydraulic canal. That’s a nice place to run.

I crossed back over German Street at the four way stop at Main Street. I waited for one car, then ran across, waving “thank you” to the cars that waited for me. As I continued down German, a lady on Washington waved me across in front of her. I thought that was very nice of her, because it’s not always easy to get onto German where there’s not a four way stop. By waiting for me, she may have missed her chance. I think she got out OK, but by then I was down another section of the erstwhile hydraulic canal.

After that I went through the parking lot of the county office building, just for something different. No traffic there on a weekend. I turned down Green Street and sprinted to make the green light at Washington. Then I changed direction to go by a sign I saw on the church there for a Rummage Sale. May 3 and 4. Phew, not today! Will I remember it by May? I hope it will be in the paper in case I don’t.

Next I turned and went through the parking lot between the church and Fire Station, then through the parking lot of the Police Station and Village Offices. I saw a bench that said “Shop Local.” Well I do, then I blog about it, I thought. I continued through another parking lot by what used to be a bank and headed towards a “Do Not Enter” sign. I love to Enter where it tells me not to.

It turned out to be a good time to cross Main Street, then it was through Myers Park and home. By this time I was feeling terrific. Even my hands were not too cold. I realized I had spend most of the run feeling pretty damn good, and that made me feel really good. Maybe I’m going to make a success of this running thing after all!

Nuthin’ Friday

I am in a bad mood. There, I’ve said it.

I bill this as “my totally fun blog,” and I try to be upbeat and positive and even rah-rah, giving shout-outs to local businesses, boosting local charities and spotlighting community events. I even try to put a positive spin on posts about difficult runs. And some days… I just don’t jolly well feel like it.

Today is Lame Post Friday, which usually comes to my rescue at times like this. A few random observations, a couple of half-baked philosophies, and I start feeling pretty cheerful. The act of writing actually boosts my mood. Today, I got nuthin’.

I tell myself there’s no reason to feel bad that I’m in a bad mood. Everybody gets in a bad mood once in a while, some people more than others. Still, there’s no reason to inflict my bad mood on others, least of all my innocent blog readers. Readers of my blog are, I believe, here to be amused, maybe informed, dare I say, entertained. Or else they clicked on a link by accident are are saying, “What the H*%#@ is this?” (in which case, I believe most computers are equipped with a handy “X” somewhere that will get rid of any offending web page)

There is no denying that I am down. My choices are: try to get myself into a better mood, try to find something funny to say about my bad mood, stop writing now and try to write my post later. I pick three.

…

So now it’s later. I typed in what I wrote earlier, because I still got nuthin’ (I really want to type “nothing” but I believe the correct expression is “I got nuthin'”). I did achieve a better mood at work, by dint of making silly jokes with my co-workers and laughing. Nothing worth repeating, but we amused ourselves. Then I got in a not so good mood after work with another not so fun run that I may blog about tomorrow. Now I’m showered and had a cup of coffee while I typed in what I wrote earlier.

Coffee! Why didn’t I think of that before? I’m feeling much better. Still not very bright, though, so, lame as this is, this is today’s post. Happy Friday, everybody.

Keep Running, Cindy!

I had it in my head that Wednesday’s run was going to be a good run and I was going to blog about it. I thought how my last couple of running posts had been about difficult runs and I felt a little uncomfortable with that. Of course, it’s a good thing to persevere through a difficult run and to write about it; the one thing helps the other, without a doubt. But I don’t want to give the impression that all my runs are difficult runs. If all I’m doing is persevering, I think it’s time to find a new hobby slash workout (I really felt the need to write the word “slash” and not use a “/”).

It helped that the weather cooperated. Warmer, not humid, nice. Shorts and short sleeves were definitely the way to go. I felt pretty OK as soon as I started out.

I wanted to run the hill by Valley Health Services. That necessitated crossing German Street, not always easy with four o’clock traffic. I managed it at the three-way stop at Caroline Street, waving “thank you” to the cars that didn’t run me over. The hill is what I would call respectable. Not as challenging as the hill to Herkimer County Community College, but not negligible. Respectable.

I shuffled up it, thinking how my previous method (and I’m not the only one to use it) was to sprint up hills. My reasoning was, get up it as quickly as possible, so the difficulty only lasted a short time. It was not a good method. Slow and steady wins the race (is that a cliche? Should I have added “as they say” or some other self-deprecating, post-ironic phrase?).

On my way down, on the other side of the building, I saw a lady walking away carrying a large umbrella.

“Didn’t need the umbrella after all,” I called.

“No, it’s beautiful,” she said.

“Oh, it sure is!”

There were still clouds, but as I rounded the corner some sunlight broke through and lit up some forsythia bushes. I love forsythia. It’s beautiful and fun to say. Now the sun was behind me with dark clouds in front of me. I admired the effect. I checked out my shadow on the sidewalk. Still lumpy. Keep running, Cindy.

My run seemed to be taking a long time. I felt that I was running very slowly. That’s all right; you mostly have to run slow on the Boilermaker. With 14,000 runners, I don’t see things thinning out much as we go. I started thinking about the Boilermaker and how I’d wave to people cheering the runners on. I can say silly things like, “My fans, how they adore me.” I mentally calculated how many weeks till the Boilermaker and how long I would be running if I added 10% each week, as recommended by those guys at the Sneaker Store. As long as I’m up to an hour I’ll feel comfortable. If you can run one hour, you can run two. You just don’t stop.

I did not need to put on a sweatshirt for my cool down walk with Tabby. I felt happy about my run and even happier when I thought about running this weekend NOT after a 10 hour workday. So you see, not all my runs are difficult or un-fun. And I bet they’ll get even better. See you at the Boilermaker!

Cool Runnings

Note to self: no more days off running. At least, no more four days in a row off running.

It was that damn pedicure. If I had not been so anxious to have pretty toes for Saturday’s wine tasting tour, I could have run on Wednesday. And it was that damn wine tasting tour. If I had stayed home, I could have run Saturday and felt better Sunday and Monday. But it’s useless to repine. We can’t go back and change things, and if we could go back there’s no guarantee we would make the right changes.

All this by way of saying, I did not enjoy Tuesday’s run as much as I had hoped. I felt better Tuesday than I had on Monday, and I thought the temperature was a little warmer. Not as warm as it could be. I recall at my last difficult run wondering if the difficulty stemmed from the warm humidity or from running after a 10 hour work day. Tuesday I had the chance to find out. Nice 40 degree weather. Good temperature to run in, right?

When I walked out of work in Ilion, it seemed colder than expected. I thought, maybe leggings and a long-sleeved t-shirt. But it was sunny; my truck cab was warm. And Herkimer is often warmer than Ilion. By the time I got home, I thought I could rock the shorts and short sleeves. I do hate getting overheated, which I find can happen when it’s over 40 degrees. I had a slight delay while Steven helped me find a headband. My ears can still get cold while my body overheats. Finally Steven located one.

Apparently the temperature had dropped and/or the wind picked up during my slight delay. Oh dear. But I was not about to go back and change, so I trusted to sunny spots and my own efforts to overcome the cold.

I right away started looking for things to put in a blog post. Different things, so my blog does not become monotonous. I did not notice anything right away, but I remembered two things. The Boilermaker organizers this year are allowing people to give their registration to somebody else if they decide not to run. One of my nieces would like to run the Boilermaker but did not register. Hmmm…. I could give her my registration and go back to leading a sedentary lifestyle. I considered that for maybe half a block. My body sure liked the sound of “sedentary lifestyle.” But I have had the foresight to mention to a good many people that I intend to run the Boilermaker. No easy way out for me! I kept running.

I had turned right onto German Street and managed to cross both Main and Washington Streets despite heavy traffic (I came as close as I can get to a sprint at this point). I made it all the way down to the old factory-looking building that is now owned (I think) by H.A.R.C and houses the Herkimer County Chamber of Commerce (I meant to go to their open house when they first opened and blog about it). I always liked that building, because it makes me think of an army building. When it was vacant I used to run through the parking lot and behind it, till I noticed the No Trespassing sign. I decided to try it again, to see if the sign was still there.

As I entered the parking lot, I saw a sign that said rental space was available, for office or manufacturing purposes. I wondered what kind of business I could start. I noticed a couple of disused loading docks and one that was completely cinder-blocked up. I didn’t see a No Trespassing sign, so I continued around the building and came out on a residential street.

I ran down it, noting as I like to screened-in porches I admire. I saw buds on some trees, a welcome sight. I never reached the “I can rock this” stage, but I got to a neutral point where my body seemed reasonably content to keep going. I did not begin to feel warm. As I ran down Prospect Street, I met a two pedestrians wearing winter coats.

“Makes me feel even colder!” the lady said, looking at me.

“I thought it was warmer when I started out,” I said. “I was wrong!”

I saw a girl running with a pit-bull-looking dog trotting beside her. She sensibly had on long pants, long sleeves and even boots. Running in boots? When she got to the park she slowed to a walk as the dog started sniffing trees, so perhaps they had merely been hustling to a business meeting.

As I neared home I got past the neutral stage and back to the “I want to stop NOW” stage. I did not stop, however, till I had run my intended time. I threw on a sweatshirt before Tabby and I walked my cool down, but it didn’t help much. The wind had picked up so much, it was making a whistling noise over the top of my water bottle. When we got back to the house, I thanked Steven again for finding the headband, because my ears were the only parts of me that weren’t cold.

I had actually written more observations and happenings from the run, but I see that I am over 800 words. I like to keep my posts short, or at least short-ish. That may be a challenge as my runs get longer, but I’ll see what I can do.