Category Archives: running commentary

Long Run, Long Post

There was a moment on this morning’s run when I did not feel that I was rocking it, yet I suspected I was.  Later on, when I had finished my run and was about to begin my cool-down walk, I felt an impulse to yell, “Yes!  I am Bad! Ass!”  Of course I did not.  It would be the wrong thing to do in a residential neighborhood prior to eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.

I had not run for two days and when I got out of bed this morning, I felt the desire to make it three.  After a cup of coffee I felt a little better about things.  The temperature was 45 degrees, my cut-off temperature for shorts and short sleeves which, as regular readers may recall, I have been thinking about re-thinking but I never feel like doing that much thinking.  So I dithered a little before getting dressed, but eventually got into shorts and short sleeves.  After all, it was supposed to be a long run.  I would have plenty of time to get warmed up.

My run was further delayed by a plumbing problem.  While the toilet was filling it began to make a hideous, loud pounding noise.  Steven turned off the water and got on the phone with our plumber.  I did not know how long the water would remain off so thought it best not to get all sweaty and stinky right away.  I got myself a half slice of the pizza we had sent out for last night and awaited events.

Our plumber, it turned out, is visiting family in New Jersey and won’t return till Tuesday.  However, when Steven described the problem, he said as long as the noise stopped when the bowl was filled, nothing terrible would happen and he would take a look at it on Tuesday. That’s in a nutshell.  I would probably get it wrong if I tried to repeat the whole thing and, anyways, this is Sunday Running Commentary, not a Plumbing Post.

So I decided to run without waiting for the pizza to digest.  I’m always pretty good about waiting an hour or two after eating, but now that I think about it, that’s what they always told us about swimming, not running.  I didn’t know what would happen for running but decided to find out.

I had it in my head to run up to Herkimer College, but as soon as I started running I knew I didn’t feel like doing that.  I was cold, especially my hands.  I was tired.  I was afraid this would not be an especially fun run.  However, I did not feel as utterly incapable of continuing as I had felt on Thursday, so I counted my blessings and headed towards the college.  Before I got to Lou Ambers Drive, I thought of running up the back road to the college.  Not as steep but longer.  That would work.

As I ran through a residential area, I saw my neighbors delivering papers and said good morning.  The wife told me to run a couple of miles for her.

“I will!”  I had no idea how many miles, if any, I would actually run that day, but I wanted to be obliging.

“All right!”

It wasn’t much fun running up the hill, but I tried to appreciate the woods on either side of me.  The little stream to my left laughed at  me as usual.”Look at me, going downhill,” it seemed to say.  “Look how easy this is and how much fun I’m having!  This is the way to go!”  But it was a weird image in my head.  Was the stream talking to me or was it all the little molecules of water talking in unison?  That’s the trouble with anthropomorphizing some things. Anyways, I thought, who wants to go in only one direction?  Wouldn’t you like to decide where to go?  And I thought there might be a profound point to make about how people often want to go in the more difficult direction and have to figure out ways to do it. Man vs. nature, and all that sort of thing.  I was having too much trouble running to come any good conclusions on these thoughts, but these are the things that go through my head sometimes.

At one point I looked ahead and saw how pretty the road looked, curving around to an unknown destination.  I will have to go back with my tablet and get a picture to share with you.  I thought how one might not know where the road went after the curve, so it would make an evocative picture.  However, I knew that once I got around that curve I would be almost at the top of the hill, so I was encouraged.

At last I was there.  Puff, puff.  Running is certainly an effort at times.  I wondered if it was the pizza weighing me down.  However, I did not feel sick to my stomach, so I counted my blessings and kept going.  When the road began to slope down, I felt very happy.  Now all I had to do was move my feet and let gravity take me along.  Then the downgrade got too steep to be really enjoyable.  I leaned back and tried not to jounce myself too much.  I thought of a story my husband Steve tells about how he was running down a hill as a boy and got out of control fast.  That did not happen to me today.

As usual, I calculated in my head a few times if I ran X today, then increased it by 10 percent each week, where would I be at the end of June?  I figure in pretty good shape for the Boilermaker 15K in July.  It was towards the bottom of the hill that I experienced the thought that I was rocking the run while not feeling that I was.  I was soon extremely tired but managed to keep going.

Eventually an odd thing happened.  I still did not feel I was rocking it, but my legs felt pretty good.  They felt supple, warmed up and, well, like legs that were capable of running for a damn long time.  My breathing was a bit labored, but my legs were all, “We cool.”

Now I see I have gone on for over 1,000 words.  I haven’t done a Running Commentary that long in a while!  And how appropriate, since this was my longest run in 2017. Boilermaker, here I come!

 

Now I’m Sitting!

Today I had a run in which every step was either a chore or a misery.  I thought I would write a little about it as encouragement to others because, dammit, I kept going.  One might argue that perhaps my body was trying to tell me something and maybe I should listen.  I answer, when do I ever listen to anybody telling me to stop doing something?  It is against my nature.  In fact, it is a little embarrassing how easily reverse psychology works on me.

I almost did not run at all.  I made one stop on the way home from work which naturally  took longer than expected.  Additionally, it was very warm in the sun.  Perfect weather to sit on the porch.  Warmer than I ideally like to run in.  However, things will only get warmer as we get into summer, so I might just as well get used to it.  At least a nice breeze was blowing.

Finding running clothes and putting a load of laundry in took a few minutes, but eventually I was on my way.  A couple was sitting on the porch of the house next door.  We exchanged greetings.

“That’s what I want to be doing,” I said.  It sure was.  I envied all the other porch-sitters I saw as I ran, of which there were a lot.

I had it in my head to do a long run, because I may not get to run Friday or Saturday.  I even thought of running up the hill to Herkimer College.  The heavy traffic on German Street discouraged me from that, because I would have had to cross it at some point, then cross back.  As I continued to put one foot in front of the other, it was brought home to me that my body was not the least bit inclined to run up such a hill anyways.  In short, I did not rock this run.

My legs hurt, my feet hurt, I forgot how to breathe.  I said that sentence as I was narrating in my head (as I like to do when running), then I asked myself, How do you forget to breathe?  You can’t forget to breathe!  Was I breathing?  Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale.  I did not have a Vocal Chord Dysfunction episode, but I just felt I was not getting the oxygen I needed.  Apparently I was, though, because I kept going.  After all, without sufficient oxygen you die, or at least pass out.  You don’t keep running, however slowly.

And it was a slow, slow run.  How in the world was I ever going to run the Boilermaker 15K?  I didn’t want to run at all! I haven’t wanted so badly to stop running since I first started running in Army Basic Training twenty years ago (oh my God, it WAS twenty years ago!).  However, I did not stop running.  I continued.  And I pointed out to myself that I was continuing.  I find it helpful to remind myself how much it can suck and I can still keep going.

I ended my run going up my street on the opposite side from my house.  I ran by the house to the end of the street, crossed the street, and ran back to my house.  It was quite the triumph to keep going that long.  As I passed our neighbors, they were still sitting on the porch.

“You need to sit down,” the lady called to me.

“Ain’t that the truth!”  I shouted back.  I got home, grabbed my bottle of water and walked around the block for my usual cool-down. Oh did it ever feel good to walk!  However it did seem to take a long time to get around the block today.  At long last I passed our neighbors’ house again.  As I hoped, they were still sitting outside.

“Now you’re walking,” the man observed.

I pumped a fist in the air as I answered, “I ran!  I walked!  Now I’m going to shower! And I’m going to sit!”  We all laughed.

 

 

A Triumph, Or Do I Flatter Myself?

Is it as much of a triumph if, on the way to your goal, you inwardly grumbled and fussed and wished yourself elsewhere?  Or does that make it more of a triumph, that you overcame your own resistance and fought the enemy that was you?

Another philosophical question:  does it matter much if I do another post about running so soon?

The questions in the first paragraph occurred to me in the middle of this morning’s run.  I made it up the hill to Herkimer College (formerly referred to as HCCC), the first time I have done so in a while.  Even getting on the road was something of a triumph, because my first thought on getting out of bed was, “Thank God I ran yesterday when I didn’t want to, because now it won’t be so bad if I don’t run again till tomorrow.”  A cup of coffee helped me change my mind.

It was 46 degrees, according to my thermostat, one degree over my limit for shorts and short sleeves.  I had been going to rethink that rule, but I could not be bothered with thinking this morning.  I found stuff to wear and got out the door.  I soon lamented my cold hands but comforted myself with the thought that I would not try to write anything for a while after the run.

I had told Steven I might run up to HCCC, but I wouldn’t guarantee it.  As a friend of mine said once, “I don’t make plans, promises or excuses.”  I could have expounded for a while on that excellent rule, but I only would have been stalling my run, so I did not.  Instead I ran toward German Street  and turned myself in the direction of the college.  I could not see any alternative to running up that hill.  I had to do it sooner or later, I thought.  The longer I put it off, the worse it would be.  I realize that, logically speaking, that is not strictly true (do I really need both those adverbs in that sentence?  I do tend to overdo it with the adverbs).  If I kept increasing my run time, and kept running other hills (of which there are not that many in Herkimer), it would get easier not harder to run up one particular hill.  But as I said earlier, I could not be bothered with a lot of thinking this morning.

Besides, I wanted to feel bad-ass.

Going up that hill was not fun.  Looking ahead didn’t help.  Looking down at my feet didn’t help.  Looking back at how far I came helped a little bit, since I didn’t do that till I was more than half-way up.  I tried to distract myself by looking at the green on the bushes and some of the trees to the left and right of me.  I do like to see the green.  I did not see any deer or other critters.  A couple of cars went by, also headed up the hill, but I did not try to hitch a ride.  They probably would not have stopped in any case.

At last, at last, I was at the top!  I wanted to put my arms over my head and make fists, although there was nobody nearby to sing, “We Are the Champions”  (regular readers may recall that at the end of a difficult run, I enjoy to walk around with my fists in the air while somebody sings, “We Are the Champions,” if I can get anybody to do so).   I just kept running normally, though, looking forward to the downhill part of my run.

I upped my time by the recommended 10 percent, so I felt pretty pleased about that.  Then I had a hot flash while I was stretching, so a cool shower felt really good.  I used good-smelling soap and lotion (white gardenia, my favorite), so I could feel pretty. Even us bad-ass runners like to feel pretty sometimes. I meant to make my Running Commentary post soon after my run, and perhaps include more of my observations and philosophical thoughts.  Then again, I’ve approaching 700 words.  That is pretty long for me. And I have a murder mystery to get ready for.  Happy Saturday, everyone.

 

At Last! A Saturday Running Commentary!

So I went for a really good run earlier, determined that I could make a Running Commentary post out of it.  And here I sit, jumping back and forth between Facebook and a blank “Add New Post” page.  How dreadful of me.  Maybe if I ate something.

There, I just had a half a tuna fish sandwich on toast.  It was pretty good.  How about a new feature I’ll call Stream of Consciousness Saturday?  Perhaps next Saturday.  Today I’ll tell you about my run.

I thought it was going to be rainy today but it has not started yet.  The temperature was over 50 degrees, so I happily dressed in shorts and short sleeves.  I’m a little dehydrated today, so I ran carrying a small bottle of water.  That isn’t really recommended, so I hear, but, as we all know, I do not always do the right thing.  As soon as I left the house, though, I knew that going for a run was definitely the right thing to do.  It was gorgeous out!  The sun was bright, there was just the right amount of a gentle breeze.  These were excellent running conditions.

I crossed German Street and headed towards the college.  Earlier this week I had thought I would run up the hill to Herkimer College, whether I was ready for it or not.  Before I reached that intimidating hill, though, I decided not to do anything so drastic.  I would turn into Brookfield Park (I think that’s what it is called; I have previously referred to it as the Unknown Park, because it is not clearly labelled).  That would give me a bit of a hill, some pleasant off-road time, and let me out partway up the back way to the college, somewhat near the spring, where I intended to re-fill my bottle once I had emptied it.

Up the hill into the park I went.  It was challenging enough.  I intend to start running more often starting, well, starting yesterday.  Running two days in a row is a good start, I think.  I ran slowly.  I uncapped the bottle and took a sip mid-stride.  This would work.  When I crossed the little bridge into the picnic area, I saw a family climbing on the hill.  That would be a fun place to explore!  They had a cute little white dog who was clearly enjoying the expedition very much.  I did not run close enough to them to call out a greeting, and soon I was on the path into the woods.

I do love to run a nature trail.  When I am up to really long runs, I will run up to the college and run the real nature trail they have on campus.  Or maybe I can talk Steven into driving up there and walking it with me one day soon.  That would make a delightful blog post.

It did not take long to come to the end of the trail and be back out on the road.  I stayed parallel to German Street and ran past Lou Ambers Drive, where the spring is.  Here was another not too bad hill that would take me near Valley Health.  I was nearing the end of my bottle, as I had been periodically taking sips.  Excellent!  I tried to ignore the tantalizing smells as I ran by Salvatore’s.  Maybe dinner there one day next week…

As I ran, I really enjoyed the warm temperature.  My legs felt supple and strong.  My breathing was not bad.  I got tired, especially towards the end, but it was a pretty good run.  As usual, I spent some time doing the math in my head: If I run x minutes this week, then add 10 percent each week…  I was going to be in fine shape for the Boilermaker 15K.

And perhaps I will be in fine shape to continue being a blogger.  I perceive that I did manage to make a Running Commentary post.  I hope you are all having a delightful Saturday.

 

Slogging Toward My Goals

I finally went running this afternoon.  It’s only been two days, but it felt like longer.  I promised myself that after this week, I will run more often.  My promise alternated with feelings of “I never want to run again!”  You’ll have that on occasion.  The best thing to do, I’ve found, is to keep running as best you can.  Sometimes that’s what you have to do when you’re making a blog post, too.

It was one of those days I spent reminding myself that I was going to run after work.  I try to do this in hopes that I’ll just get home, get dressed and go before I have a chance to talk myself out of it.  It didn’t work.  I got home moaning that I did not want to run.  I got dressed for it and got out of the house anyways.  According to  my thermostat, the temperature was 46 degrees.  The last time I ran in 46 degree weather, I rethought my cut-off of 45 degrees for shorts and short-sleeves.  I went upstairs to put on leggings.  Then I got a hot flash and put on the knee-length shorts that were handily on the drying bars.  I kept on the extra large short-sleeved t-shirt I had been wearing all day.  A headband would cover my ears and/or absorb my forehead sweat.

Earlier today, I had occasion to ask if “slog” was really a word, as in, “I am just slogging through this day.”  My co-workers said it was.  I just now looked it up in my dictionary and, sure enough, it is.  So there I was slogging through my run.  That was OK, though, I told myself, it is all part of getting into shape.  I distracted myself by noticing some flowers in somebody’s lawn.  Very nice.  The first one’s I’ve seen this year.  Most of the snow and mud were gone from the sidewalk, so that was nice, too.  I kept going as best as I could.

I said to myself that each step was a step was bringing me closer to my goals.  Closer to my Boilermaker 15K goals.  Closer to my weight-loss goals.  Closer to the end of the run when I would have a nice glass of wine with my husband.  Hey, you take what motivation you can and, you should pardon the expression, run with it.

It was really not a bad run, for being kind of a slog.  I was happy with myself for doing it.  I’m also happy I got a blog post written.  Perhaps not as good of a blog post as others, but you’ll have that.  For a Wuss-out Wednesday, it’ll do.

 

A Lean, Mean Something or Other

Did anybody think I was so busy with theatrical murder that I was forgetting my Boilermaker ambitions?  Say it ain’t so!  Last week was not the best I’ve had (this is using a Sunday through Saturday week as opposed to a Monday through Sunday week, as some see it) (ooh, that could be a whole other blog post, where the week starts and ends, help me remember that, will you?).  However (are you still with me after those long parenthetical comments?), one can improve.  So I had a good run today, and now I’m going to write a Running Commentary post about it.

I waited to run till almost 11:30, because it was cold this morning.  It was not too cold to run, but I also wanted to hang out with my husband, go to the grocery store, maybe do the dishes…  Of course this would give me plenty of opportunity to talk myself out of running at all, but I managed to avoid that disaster.  As a matter of fact, it was easier to get myself to run than it was to do the dishes, and there weren’t that many dishes.  I was just not in the mood to do the dishes.

Once the dishes were done, though, and I took another Facebook break (that is what I do on Sundays: get a little bit done, look at Facebook, repeat), I got dressed and went.  It was 46 degrees, one degree above my cut-off for shorts and short sleeves, so I thought, Score!  I still put on a wide headband to cover my ears.  I placed my sweatshirt and water bottle in a handy spot for my cool-down walk and took off.

The first thing I did was to re-think my cut-off temperature for shorts and short sleeves.  That wind was cold!  But there was nothing to do but keep running and hope for a hot flash.  It was a sunny day with some clouds (I don’t want to say “partly cloudy” because it really did seem more sun than cloud).  When the sun came out fully and the wind died down, I felt some warmth.  The sidewalks were almost completely bare, so I appreciated that.

I wished my running time were long enough to run up the hill to Herkimer College (formerly HCCC) (pronounced H-triple-C).  I wanted to feel bad-ass, and it was such a bright day the view would have been awesome.  I tried to mentally calculate when I would be running long enough to make it up and back, but I couldn’t do the math.  I went up the hill by Valley Health instead.  That turned out to be challenging enough for me.  I was out of breath by the time I reached the top and turned left. As I noted the sidewalk still rising at a lesser angle, my in-head narration was interrupted by my realization that I did not know the name of the street I was on.  There was a street sign.  Exchange Avenue.  As I continued to run, I pondered what could be the difference between a street and an avenue and how they decide which gets named what.

My goal for the run was 31 minutes, that is, 10 percent longer than I ran last weekend.  My body vacillated between “I can rock this” and “Can we stop now?” I kept going for my full 31 minutes.  As I walked my cool-down, my legs felt wonderful, as if they would soon be capable of carrying me for miles. I told myself I was going to be in great shape for the Boilermaker 15K.  And if I continue to eat sensibly, running will help me attain my weight-loss goals.  I will be a mean, lean, not very fast running machine!

 

Not a Good Week, But a Not Bad Run

It has not been a good week for running.  Monday I was melancholy, Tuesday I had rehearsal, Wednesday we got our taxes done (more melancholy there, too, but never mind that), and that bring us to Non-Sequitur Thursday.  I am training for the Boilermaker 15K.  I was determined to run.

The weather report said we might be getting freezing rain or snow or some such stuff tonight, but nothing had started when I got home from work shortly after 3 p.m.  My thermostat said it was 45 degrees out.  That is my cut-off temperature for shorts and short sleeves.  I hesitated, though, because I can’t say I’m really back in shape yet, and it is just getting to 45 degrees.  I would have felt better at 46 degrees.  I compromised on leggings that came just below the knee and a short-sleeved t-shirt. A wide headband could cover my ears.  I put my sweatshirt and a bottle of water on the deck for my cool-down walk and set out.

A lot of the snow that Stella dumped on us has gone; the sidewalks were mostly bare and dry.  I could rock this.  I turned left onto German Street, to do my usual down Caroline, up Margaret, down Henry, up Bellinger route.  I was moving pretty slowly, but you’ll definitely have that after three days off.  The temperature was not bad at all.

Until the wind picked up, which it soon did.  No matter, I would just keep running till it warmed me up.  I find that works better for legs than for arms and hands, especially hands.  It was still no matter, because I was determined to keep running.  I concentrated on how much I appreciate bare, dry sidewalks.  I made nothing of the few puddles.  I ran through or around some remaining snow.

At one point, two little kids were playing in front of a house while their mother sat on the steps.  The little boy was drawing on the sidewalk with chalk.  The little girl was moving shovelfuls of show, annoying the boy by dropping some on his picture.

“I’ll try to step around your art,” I said.  I also had to dodge the little girl, who stepped right in front of me.  Luckily we did not collide and I ran on.

A little later, I passed a man and said hello.  He said, “Boilermaker?”

“I hope so,” I answered.

“Good for you!”

I ran on before I had time to say thanks.  I wondered why I said I hoped so instead of “Damn skippy” or “You bet!”  After all, I am pretty damn sure I will run the 15K and make it through the whole thing.  On the other hand, it cannot be denied that shit happens, and those who are too sure of themselves sometimes come to grief.   I kept running, realizing that this would help keep me from coming to grief on the Boilermaker.  This is me, getting into shape, I told myself.

It was quite pleasant when the wind was still, which was not often.  However, I managed to run for 29 minutes, equal to my last longest time.  And I see now that I have over 500 words, a longer blog post than I have managed lately.   I say not bad for Thursday of a melancholy week.

 

Cold Run, Dusty Blog Post

I had already started writing this post when Steven put on a Dusty Springfield CD.  Oh, this was JUST what I needed!  “I Only Want to Be with You”!  It’s peppy, it’s happy, it’s about me and Steve!  I love it!  I’ve been feeling vaguely down most of the day and ill with the cold I’ve been fighting (I’m losing).  I sometimes forget the healing properties of music.

Oh dear.  I started a post.  I got distracted by the CD and wrote a fun headline of “Sing it, Dusty!”  then realized I can only say so much about how nice it is to listen to good music with a nice husband.  Perhaps I should go back to the post I started to write.  What a distracting lead!  I guess this is Non-Sequitur Saturday (which has the charm of alliteration that Non-Sequitur Thursday lacks) (does alliteration make something more of a sequitur?  Discuss amongst yourselves).

This is what I started to write:

Usually I make my Saturday Running Commentary in the morning, shortly after my run.  It is fresh in my mind and it works out very well.  Today I did not do so.  However, rather than making another Scattered Saturday post (although those can be kind of fun), I think I will attempt a Running Commentary.

The sun was almost up when I realized it was either run or eat.  I picked run.  The temperature was in the low 30s, so I put on the warmest running pants I own, a gift from my sister Victoria and her daughter Gillian.  Technically, I believe they are yoga pants, but one must not allow a mere technicality to keep one from improving one’s health and reaching one’s weight-loss goals.

Dusty is now singing “Wishin’ and Hopin'”  which reminds us irresistibly of My Best Friend’s Wedding.  Ah, Julia Roberts.  What a woman.  I’ve been thinking of her a lot lately, since she was in the movie version of Steel Magnolias, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre.

It was cold and not quite light out.  I had worn my reflective vest (road guard vest, to my army friends), as much for an extra layer and a pouch for tissues as for safety.  It turned out to be a pretty safe run, because the sidewalks were bare and I mostly stuck to them.  I went in the road for a while, though, out Main Street.  I went up part of a steep hill that ends in a dead end.  It didn’t used to be a dead end, but part of the road collapsed.  Pedestrians can still get by.  I got by and ran in the road part of the way down, um, Steuben Street?  I think that’s what it called.  Then I went down Dorf Street, part of which also has no sidewalks.

Now she is singing, “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me.”  I know some man also sang this song.  I wanted to say Tom Jones at first but then I thought I had heard it on the radio many years ago not on a CD we own recently (YES, I listen to Tom Jones CDs!), so I thought Paul Anka, but that didn’t sound right either.  I may check that out before I hit publish.

My run was not bad, although my hands got quite stiff.  I made it to 26 minutes, only two less (fewer?) than I accomplished earlier in the week on the mini-tramp.  With a good hill in the freezing cold, I thought that was pretty good.  If I would have written the blog post right away, the blog post might have been as good as the run, but that is something we will never know.

I wonder what Steven will want to listen to after Dusty Springfield.  And by the way, according to YouTube, both Tom Jones and Elvis Presley sang “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me.”  Where did I get Paul Anka?

 

Literally Running Lines

Do you like that title?  I thought of it while I was at work today.  I wanted to run, since I had taken two days off, and I need to work on my lines for Steel Magnolias (remember, that play I’m in at Ilion Little Theatre?).  Steven would be home and was willing to run them with me.  I decided to do both chores at once by running in place on the mini-tramp.

As I drove home, I regretted my plan, because it was unseasonably warm and the sidewalks looked not too bad.  However, I have lines to work on and a husband to spend time with.  I put on indoor running clothes and cleared off the tramp (it is such a handy place to put things!).  I set a bottle of water on the coffee table and got going.

As often happens when running on the mini-tramp, I felt I was moving faster than I do outside.  I really don’t enjoy the up/down motion of running in place as much as the low shuffle of running down the street.  I also like the changing scenery better than the television.  However, I was not supposed to be looking at the television; I was supposed to be thinking about my lines.

And I didn’t do too badly.   Some of the lines I had forgotten but remembered when Steven gave me the cue.  Some of the longer lines I did not know word for word.  But I feel pretty confident to go to rehearsal and not have my book in my hand.  For Act I Scene 1, at least.  Imagine my chagrin when I chatted with a fellow cast member via Facebook and found out we are doing Act II Scene 2.  Oh well, I have all day at work tomorrow to study that one some more.

As for my run, I ran in place for 28 minutes, six minutes more than I ran on Sunday.  Woohoo!  I only walked a three minute cool-down, because walking around the house just not as good as walking around the block.  I felt pretty pleased with myself for getting some exercise, and for giving myself something to write a blog post about, complete with headline.  Was it a great blog post?  Perhaps not, but I can’t worry about that now.  At least it wasn’t Wuss-out Wednesday.  Hope to see you all on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

 

Grey Run

I bet some of you thought I was never going to run again (while others of you are saying, “I never thought that!”).  I confess, I had my own doubts.  But today it was a choice between go running or eat something and I chose running!  I believe this demonstrates that there is indeed hope for me. (Full disclosure:  I ate something after the run.)

It was 40 degrees out, five degrees below my perhaps arbitrary border for running in shorts and short sleeves.  I found a pair of log johns that were only semi-dirty (I always feel so reduce-reuse-recycle when I wear something more than once before washing it) and pulled a long-sleeved running shirt out of my pile.  I was going to look for a ARMY t-shirt with a reflective decal in the back, but the sun was up and I was in a hurry.

Spunky wanted to go out when he saw me bustling about getting ready, so I took him for a short business meeting, then I was off.  Right away I thought, “Why oh why did I ever stop running?”  I also felt that the time not running had not wrought total havoc on my body.  Just a note:  I did not COMPLETELY stop running; let’s just say my habits have been  sporadic.  I turned right on German Street. Usually when I have not run in a while, I turn left, then go down Caroline Street, up Margaret, then down Henry.  That sounded boring to me.

It was grey and gloomy out.  I admired the bare trees against the sky, as I always do.  Perhaps I will venture out later with my Tablet and try to get a few pictures.  Soon it became apparent that my lack of running regularly had, naturally enough, had a negative impact on my body.  My legs were quite unhappy with me.  I sternly told myself that one must have the not so fun runs in order to get to the good stuff.  I tried to distract myself by deciding where to run.  Up Main Street and down the nice path?  I saw a man walking a dog in that direction and decided against it.  I do like to stop and pet a dog, but in the first place I did not know if that was a pettable dog and in the second place, I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to stop.

By the time I got to the end of German Street I had run almost ten minutes.  Oh dear, that doesn’t usually take me that long, does it?  Then again, what did that matter?  I set out to run a certain length of time; who cares how much ground I actually cover?  I thought a 20 minute run would be good.  I tried to feel happy about being halfway there.  It really wasn’t a horrible run.  Just kind of grey, meaning the sky and my mood.  Well, how much of life is in the grey area?  I’m thinking, a lot.

I looked at houses as I passed.  I saw one that still had red ribbons and wreaths on the porch.  As I ran I was narrating in my head that I went down this street, then that to the other, but that is more words than I feel like typing right now.  I ran by Herkimer’s Historic Four Corners.  There were poinsettias, red and gold foil, in the urns outside the Historical Society.  I made the sign of the cross as I ran by Herkimer Reformed Church.  I also noted the County Courthouse and 1834 Jail which make up the other two corners.

My run ended up being 22 minutes long.  I said good morning to three dog walkers as I walked around the block for my cool-down.  They were across the street from me, so I still didn’t get to pet a dog.  I petted my own dog when I got home.  I felt very happy that I ran again.  I hope to keep it up in the coming weeks.  I’ll probably write more blog posts about it.