Category Archives: running commentary

Mohawk River Run

Instead of my beloved Lame Friday Post, I make bold to offer two Running Commentary posts in a row, because once again I ran two days in a row.  I’m just a little pleased with myself about it (happily glossing over the fact that I first took three days off).  Also, the setting of my run was definitely Mohawk Valley-ish.

As I mentioned yesterday, I am in Rome for Thanksgiving.  I had brought running clothes for two days but, as it turned out, not quite what I needed.  Well, who expects to wear shorts to run in November?  Yes, it happens, but one must admit, it is unusual.  No matter, my Mom loaned me a pair of shorts and off I went.

It was a little later than yesterday’s run; the sun was high in the sky, so I decided to check out the Mohawk River Trail. I picked it up off (I think) Culver Avenue (at least, one end of that street is Culver.  I suppose I COULD look it up before I publish this, but you know what a slacker I am on a Friday).  The trail head was clearly labeled, and there was a trash can at the entrance.  I always take note of public trash cans, for if I’m walking a dog and need to dispose of poop bags.

The trail is blacktop and wide enough for two or three to walk abreast.  I made note of that, because I thought I might be returning later in the day for a walk with members of my family.  Oh, I do love to be in the woods.  The trees were bare, leaves carpeted the ground, everything was brown and peaceful.  It was a cloudy, almost a gloomy morning, but my mood was anything but gloomy.  I could feel that I was running faster than yesterday, which you may recall, was faster than previously.  I’m thinking the reason was that I had been up for a while, drank coffee and eaten some toast and date-nut bread (protein in the dates and nuts!).

Just to interject another family note (it is a holiday weekend, after all), the date-nut bread was made by my sister Diane using my grandmother’s recipe.  Grandma always brought date-nut bread for Thanksgiving and Christmas; I am so pleased to have the tradition continued.  To add to the tradition (and the best traditions are built on over the years), my sister made the bread with her daughter, another sister and a niece, while having few drinks and a lot of laughs.  Laughs are a very important part of my family’s traditions.

Getting back to the run, I was enjoying myself quite a bit on the smooth, fairly level path.  I could see a few side paths that were not paved. I’m not sure if they were official or just used by some people, but I did not explore any today.  One led down to the water, possibly for a fishing spot.  The river was mostly visible through the trees, civilization less so. I was not sure where I was in relation to the City of Rome.  This did not particularly worry me.  I could always turn around and run back the way I came, but of course I didn’t want to do that.

There was a bridge in the distance.  Could I get there from here?  I had crossed a bridge to get to the trail so obviously would have to cross another to get back.  I was about half-way to how long I wanted to run for.  It was time to turn around or go another way.  Up a little bit of a hill, I came to a road.  Ah, but what road?  It did not look familiar.  Then I saw a sign for MVCC (Mohawk Valley Community College).  I know they have a branch on Floyd Avenue.   There was a sidewalk, to I got on it and turned in the direction of the bridge.

Things did not look completely familiar right away, but I was still pretty sure I was on Floyd Ave and headed in the right direction (I know it is more proper to say “Floyd Avenue” when I don’t have a street number, but we SAY “Floyd Ave” in conversation, so I make bold to say that here) (just a little grammatical digression).  Then things looked vaguely familiar, then I recognized stuff.

It was a lovely little run.  I went the exact length of time I went yesterday. Perhaps by Sunday I will increase it by the recommended 10 percent.  In the meantime, I’ll hit Publish and feel pleased with myself that I burned off some of the calories consumed at our Thanksgiving feast.  Happy Friday, everyone.

 

My Own Personal Turkey Trot

I had a dream last night in which I was walking down some stairs and my legs were killing me.  I explained to my companions that I had run for two days then taken a day off.

“Let that be a lesson to me,” I said.  Later on I woke up and went running.

I remembered the dream while running and thought, “You doofus, you didn’t go one day without running, you went three!  Don’t do that again!”  But I didn’t dwell too much on it, because, hey, I was out there moving.

I’m in Rome, at my parents’ house.  They suggested I run the Canal Trail, but since it was still dark I thought I would stick to the sidewalks.  The sun was mostly up by the time I got out the door, but I kept to my original intention.  It is always fun for me to run in Rome, because these are the streets I used to ride my bike on many, many years ago (you can tell me how many with a chortle if you so choose; I have no time to do the math).

I was quite the bike rider in those days.  It was just an old coaster with pedal brakes, but I loved it.  It took me everywhere.  It was not until much later in life I discovered the joy of gears, but we’re not talking about bicycles today.  I was on foot.

The first thing I saw was the full moon from last night.  A nephew of my husband’s used to call it the Moon-a-moolah.  It sure looked like a moon-a-moolah this morning.  I tried to run so I could keep it in sight.  The sky was grey and getting lighter.  I admired the bare trees against it.  I have a fascination with dead trees but lately have been appreciating the charm of live ones.  The limbs keep branching out till they are millions of thin twigs.  Such detail!  Really, Mother Nature is the consummate artiste.

Looking east I could see the incredible sunrise.  Streaks of pink — was that red skies at morning?  No, no, couldn’t be; we’re going to have a nice Thankgiving and take my sister’s dog for a walk.  I turned down a street looking away from the pink but going right toward the moon-a-moolah.  I clearly remembered some of the streets.  My favorites were always the alleys.  How cool would that be, to have your house on one street and your garage on the other?  Then I saw one with a screened in back porch and my envy was complete.

I didn’t exactly get lost, because I always knew the area I was in and I didn’t run that far anyways.  However, in Rome the streets often don’t come out where you expect them to.  No matter.  A couple of minutes added to a run do no harm.  I was running a little faster than I had previously.  I don’t imagine it looked like an effortless lope to anyone else, but at least I didn’t feel like I was plodding along.  Was it a trot?  No, no, I am never bouncy but strive for a smooth stride.  Still, I had thought to call this post My Own Personal Turkey Trot, in acknowledgement of the day.  Well, I still will.  For one reason, I can’t think of anything better.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

 

Lame Running Commentary

Oh, swell.  I’ve got the dreaded type it in then backspace it out.  How many posts have I started with that observation?  I am far too lazy to go back and check.  But I was not too lazy to go running, so I will attempt to write a paragraph or two about that.

To begin with I was not going to run.  Did I mention I’m feeling lazy?  One problem was I had a headache for most of the day.  It was not a migraine, so I had that going for me.   The headache eased off by the time I got home, but I had just about talked myself out of running for the day.  What to do instead?  Take a shower?  Clean the house?  Fool around on Facebook?  I decided to call my parents.  They told me to go running.  So I did.

I could not move very fast.  In my defense, I worked a ten hour day today, which I have not done in a while.  Oh well, I guess I did do two last week.  But other than that, it’s been nine-hour days.  On the brighter side, I did not have to worry about going to rehearsal tonight.  So you see, the glass usually is half full.

Then I felt a twinge.  It felt as if I had pulled a muscle in the top of my foot.  For heavens’ sake, who pulls a muscle in the top of their foot?  How ridiculous!  I kept running, ignoring it as best as I could.  I tried to run smoothly, so as not to be pounding my great weight onto my foot.

I may have mentioned that I developed my smooth stride in the army.  An army friend told me I looked like I was speed walking when I ran.  She had knee problems so tried to imitate my run.  She said, “I tell myself,  ‘Do the Quackenbush!  Do the Quackenbush!'”  So today I thought to myself, “Do the Quackenbush!”

After a while my foot felt better.  Then I got a stitch in my side.  This is what it is like to be me.

No matter.  I kept running.  At least I could enjoy looking at the fall colors and admiring people’s Halloween decorations.  The temperature was very good for running: cool enough that I wasn’t sweaty, not so cold my hands got stiff (remember: glass half full).   I’ve had worse runs.

I ran for as long as I ran last time (Wednesday), which was 22 minutes.  I only walked a six-minute cool-down, because the ice cream truck seemed to be stalking me.  I hate that ice cream truck.

I was glad that I ran.  I’m even more glad that now I’ve made my blog post.  Did you find it a little lame?  May I remind you that this is Lame Post Friday?   I hope to see you again as the weekend progresses.

 

What I Meant to Post Last Thursday

For this week’s Tired Tuesday, I present the Running Commentary I wrote but did not fully type in last Thursday (perhaps you read my post about my computer tribulations).  In fact, I had meant to run today and write about that but instead stayed at work an extra hour.  I can use the cash.  Now I am pressed for time but managed to finish typing in what I wrote last week. I always say, waste not, want not!

Regular readers and well-wishers may be happy to hear that I started running again.  According to my Running Journal I have not gone since Aug. 3.  Yikes!  How mortifying to admit it.  I suppose it is possible that I went once and did not note it, but the fact remains: I waited TOO long to begin again.  However, regret is a profitless venture.  I ran and now I shall write about it.

When  I left work Wednesday, it was near perfect running conditions.  The rain had stopped and mostly dried up.  It was neither too cool nor too hot.  There was even cloud cover, so the afternoon sun would not get in my eyes.

“It would be flying in the face of fate not to run,” I remarked to the colleague I was walking out with.  Kind of like not taking the elevator when it is right there open and your feet hurt.

I had rehearsal at 6:30 as well as a blog post to write, a shower to take and the usual problem of finding something to wear.  I mentally calculated how long these things would take and figured a twenty-minute run with ten-minute cool-down would be fine.  Oh, I also had to find something to eat.  No doubt all these things could be worked out.  What I could NOT do was get on the computer for a quick check of Facebook and email before I did anything else.

I know some of you are saying with a disdainful sniff that you NEVER get on Facebook and you have NO problem eschewing all forms of electronic distraction.  Well, that’s nice for you.  The rest of my readers are nodding wisely in agreement (with me).

I still almost talked myself out of it.  I was hungry!  I had rehearsal!  The other part of me said, Flying in the face of fate! and Oh, just do it!  So I did.

And it wasn’t bad at all.  My first feeling as I started shuffling along was one of triumph.  I was RUNNING!  (Yes, what I do counts as running!  Shut up!)  I was going to post as my Facebook status, “I ran!”  I would probably get lots of Likes.  Perhaps it is a product of my low self-esteem, but I love to get Likes on Facebook (I like to get Likes on WordPress too.  Just saying).

The run continued to feel pretty good.  My knees felt a little sore but not sore enough to stop me.  I figure running will help me lose weight and weighing less will help my knees more than anything else.  In fact, I was feeling skinnier already.

I was happy to note some patches of brightly colored leaves as I ran.  I’ve seen some leaves changing, but they seemed more brown than anything else.  I was delighted to see bright orange, my favorite.

The run was going pretty well.  My legs felt OK (other than the knees), my breathing was fine, even my feet didn’t hurt much, which was surprising because they had been aching all day at work.  I blame the steel-toed work shoes, although I was happy enough for them the day I dropped a pan of metal parts on my foot.

I ran for the twenty minutes I had set out to do.  I walked nine minutes for my cool-down, because that was how long it took me to get around the block.

I had plenty of time to make my blog post by virtue of having written most of it during breaks at work.  I did not have time to fix myself something to eat but made do with a few pieces of cheese supplemented by a candy bar purchased from Ilion Little Theatre Club at rehearsal.

Do you suppose the candy bar cancelled out the run as far as my weight loss goals are concerned?  If so, that would be unfortunate.  On the other hand, the candy bar tasted really good and helped me get through rehearsal.  Also, it is better than if I ate the candy bar and did not run, so I’ll call the glass half full and not of diet soda (I HATE diet soda!).

I felt happy with my little run and especially happy to be writing a Running Commentary.  I may have been happier yet if I could have published it the same day I originally wrote it, but this is nice too.

 

Running through the Window

Does that give you a dramatic image of a triumphant crashing through glass?  I’m afraid it isn’t quite like that.  However, I ran today and thought a Sunday Running Commentary might make a nice post.

Regular readers know I have been having the damnedest time getting back into running, which is a little ridiculous considering how much I love to run.  Well, I’ve been busy with community theatre commitments (as you may have read my blog posts about), dealing with physical problems (long story, not very interesting), and my ever-present depression.

Lately I have been more comfortable talking about my depression.  Part of me cringes when I bring it up, though, because, I think about those nay-sayers (some of whom, I admit, live in my own head) who think it’s not a real thing.

“Put on your big girl panties!” they say (I talked about that heinous expression in yesterday’s post). Also,  “Snap out of it!”  “Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”  “Get over it!”  “Just do something.”

That last bit of advice is actually a good one.  It has been widely observed that doing something, almost anything, will often alleviate depression.  It is also a widely observed fact that those of us suffering from depression often feel we cannot manage anything further than staying in bed and pulling the covers further up over our heads (that is, our respective heads in our respective beds; if we were all in bed together, well, I leave that up to your imagination).

What I have found for myself is that it does NOT work to just force myself to do something.  Grit-teeth determination only gives me a sore jaw.  Beating myself up only makes me feel worse (although I am really good at it, so that ought to give a boost to my self-esteem).  I have to sort of back into these things.  For example, I can’t say to myself, “I HAVE to run.  I MUST run. I OUGHT TO run.  I SHOULD run.”  I sit home and stew over these exhortations.  However, if  I say, “It would be a good idea if I ran,”  I often find myself in my running gear and going.

I ran on Wednesday using these tactics.  I felt so good about myself.  I wrote a blog post about it on Thursday, which never got typed in and published due to computer glitches (perhaps you read my Non-Sequitur Thursday post about that) (I suppose I could publish it next week, suitably introduced).  Then I did not run Thursday, Friday or Saturday, and felt predictably disgusted with myself over it.

Oh the vicious cycle:  too depressed to run, not running making me even more depressed.  Then I logged onto WordPress to see a picture of muscular running legs on Return of the Modern Philosopher, a blogger I often read.  I scrolled down and read some other blogs.  I could not bear to read about someone else’s running triumphs.  I read some earlier posts instead, making comments as I like to do.

Of course in one of his posts, the Philosopher talked about running.  I made some silly comment, he replied. I logged on and off WordPress as the day wore on, to be confronted by those legs again and again.  Hmmm…

This morning I slept in, decided that I would walk today and ease back into running.  I got up, made coffee, got on the computer.  Now, I did not make coffee yesterday.  I am on my own for the weekend, because my nice husband, who makes the coffee I like best, is visiting his family.  I had tea.  Later in the day I heated up some day-old coffee that was still in the pot (I know, some of you are saying, “EW!” while others are nodding, “Yeah, I’ve done that.”).  This morning I wanted some fresh-brewed goodness.

Logging back into WordPress, I made a few more comments and replies, saw those legs again, drank my coffee and pondered my fate.  Finally I looked up and said, “Oh, I’m going to go running now.”

This is unusual for me.  Normally I run as soon as I get out of bed or home from work or not at all.  Those are my three choices.  I guess sometimes I go at other times, though, and today was one of them.

I did not get any of them there endorphins I hear so much about, BUT I felt terrific from the moment I started till the moment I finished.  I was just so proud of myself that I got out there and did it.  Why in the world did I wait so long?  Perhaps the euphoria was the result of my first real cup of coffee in two days.  I don’t care.  I’ll take my good moods however I can get them.

I pondered the vicious cycle I mentioned earlier, and I realized something.  In the prison of depression (just to choose a really dramatic metaphor), I can’t break through the ever-thickening walls.  I can’t beat up the guards to break free (the guards being those nay-sayers that live in my head, I guess).  But every so often, a small window opens, and I can sneak through that window.

So remember that, any of you who suffer from depression or just a little blue mood, and I shall try to remember it myself:  watch for the window.  When one opens, sneak through it out into the sunshine and fresh air.  I hope to see you there.

 

Blame it on the Boilermaker

I thought that would make a good headline.  I guess what we’re blaming on the Boilermaker is all the running posts I’ve made lately, because I’m making another one today.

I often crash and burn after the Boilermaker.  In fact, that is how I mark it on my calendar:  Sunday: Boilermaker; Monday: Crash; Tuesday: Burn.  What I do not write is Wednesday: start running again, but that is what I did.

All day at work I reminded myself that I was going to run.  And all day I wished I had run Monday or Tuesday (when I was crashing and burning), so I would have an excuse not to run.  But isn’t that always the way it is?  I reminded myself that I do not like to take three days off.  I was going to run.

It’s been stinking hot for two days, but today was nice. Gloomy and almost cold this morning (which is the way I like it).   Sunny this afternoon.  It was quite warm in my vehicle driving home from work, but I did not despair of a moderately comfortable run.

Predictably, it was not comfortable.  For that, perhaps I can blame the Boilermaker (another good reason for the headline!).   I ran slowly.  My legs expressed indignation at having to run.  What, did they think 15 Ks and they were done?  Nonsense!

The sun was bright enough to be hot.  A breeze only occasionally blew. I greatly enjoyed what shade I could find.  I had promised myself a short, easy run.  I shuffled along, hoping I could make it for 20 minutes.

It really was not too bad.  I shuffled along, not worrying too much about speed (do I ever?).  I actually did manage to speed up then sprint it out at the end, so bonus.  I did 22 minutes. 22 has always been my favorite number.  Walking around the block for my cool-down felt really good.

I was glad I had at least gotten back out there. I’ll have to get out for some real runs soon, though. After all, the DARE 5K is only a month away.   Maybe I can write some better blog posts about them.

 

And Now to Hydrate

Welcome to another post in All Boilermaker All The  Time.  The race is taking on a looming presence in my psyche.  I approach it with trepidation and anticipation.  Today I lean more toward anticipation.  After all, it’s not just a race:  it’s a party!  And by “party” I don’t mean the after-party at the Saranac Brewery.  I mean the race itself.

It’s going to be FUN!  People will cheer, shake noisemakers, and hold up funny signs.  Bands and DJs will play music.  I’ll make silly jokes with the other runners.  More importantly, at long last it seems that running itself has gotten back to being fun for me.  Just running.  I love it.

I went for a short run this morning.  I confess to a brief feeling of disappointment that it was not pouring rain.  I considered bagging the run and going for a long walk later, like I did on Monday.  Then I thought about how it was supposed to be hot and humid later, that I really don’t like to take more than a day off at a time, and that if I ran right away I would probably drink less coffee, an important factor in my quest for hydration.

I set out thinking to do a mere twenty minutes.  I decided to include the hill by Valley Health, since I had run a fairly flat route on my last run.  It was already quite humid.  It is supposed to be humid on Boilermaker Sunday.  I suppose it is too late to get really acclimated to running in heat and humidity.  Well, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

And it wasn’t.  I got sweaty, of course, and pretty thirsty.  I ran for 28 minutes, then walked ten as a cool-down.  I stopped home before the cool-down and picked up the bottle of water I had foresightedly left for myself on the deck (my computer is telling me foresightedly is not a word, but I think it is) (OK, I’m pretty sure it’s not, but it is what I mean).  Side note:  the water bottle thing is  what I do every time I run, but I wasn’t sure if I had ever mentioned it.

I felt pretty happy with myself for running, especially when it began pouring rain later in the morning. Then again when the sun came out and it got stinking hot in the afternoon. I hope I’ll feel as happy on Sunday after 15 Ks.  I’ll let you know.

Oh, Those Endorphins!

I’ve been trying all day to think of something profound to say about the 4th of July (don’t feel right calling it Independence Day after that dumb movie) (oh, it was entertaining enough,don’t hate on me if it’s your favorite piece of cinema; let’s not get distracted by what was only a  parenthetical comment after all).  And now I realize that because of the weird time setting on my WordPress page, it is now the fifth of July.  I can do up a quick Running Commentary on this morning’s jaunt  and hit Publish in time to get to the cookout at my sister’s house.

I hadn’t even meant to do a running commentary, although it would be appropriate for me to go All Boilermaker All The Time at this point.  After all, the race is one week from tomorrow.  I need to start hydrating and obsessing or I’ll never be ready.  That said, I kind of think I am ready.  I’m just afraid to say it too loudly and jinx myself (perhaps I should have put it in a parenthetical comment).

Be all that as it may, I missed my run yesterday due to a dreadful headache and bad reaction to the drugs that were supposed to help.  I got up at 3:30 this morning, because of my husband’s work. I figured  I could hydrate and perhaps have a little something to eat, then run at twenty after six, when he left for work.  I drank water.  I ate a piece of whole wheat toast with cottage cheese.  This was going to be great.

It was  actually 6:25 when I set out.  I had dithered when deciding which way to go.  I wanted hills, but which ones?  Main Street?  Steuben?  Up to the college?  When I had asked Steven  earlier, he didn’t know what to tell me so finally said, “Run in the suburbs.”  For those just tuning in, the suburbs is what I call a residential area beyond Valley Health Services.  They have some pretty good hills there.

So up the hill by Valley Health I went. Only I didn’t feel like running the same route I ran last time.  I wanted something different, so I took a different turn.  Hmm, that was no hill.  I kept running, looking for a hill I hadn’t run.  Soon I found myself near Lou Ambers Drive.  Oh, to heck with it.  I went to Lou Ambers and on up to Herkimer College.

I forgot to mention that I was running with a bottle of water in my hand.  I had debated whether or not to do this (so many decisions for one run!).  After all, I wasn’t sure how long I would run for.  I don’t need water for anything under 40 minutes.  Additionally, I was running in the general vicinity of the spring.  I could stop and catch a sip there.  Then again, after yesterday’s headache, I really wanted to stay hydrated.  A final factor was that it was cooler out than it had been.  Who wants to stick their hands in the cold spring water when it’s only 45 degrees out?

I don’t know that it was actually 45 degrees out, but it was cool enough that the hand holding the bottle was damn uncomfortable.  Well, one must put up with these things.  It was nice to take the occasional sip.  As I ran up and around the campus, I paid attention to the water level, planning to run to the spring for a re-fill.  Or should I skip the re-fill and just run home?  Did I really need more water?  If dithering burned calories, I would have no weight problems whatsoever.

This whole time I was debating how long to run for.  I had run an hour and twenty minutes at my last long run a week ago.  I was considering doing an hour an a half as my last long run before the Boilermaker.  Could I make that?  Of course I could, but did I want to?  How tired would I be as the day wore on?  Would my muscles be sore?  My knees?   I repeat my observation about dithering and calories.

I refilled the water and tried to talk myself into an hour and a half.  I could do it.  I would do it.  As I continued to run, I realized just one little problem with staying completely hydrated on a long run.  I had to pee.  Oh dear.  Maybe if I stopped drinking more water and kept running I could sweat it out.

Astute readers will may noticed that I have yet to mention my legs complaining or  my breathing being a problem.  Well, that was the truly delightful thing about the run.  I started out feeling a little grumpy, wondering what had possessed me to register for a 15K and promising myself I would never have to do it again.  I was soon pumping along with almost no problem.   Of course going uphill was still an effort.  I did not mind it being an effort.  At one point I met two women running in the opposite direction.

“Isn’t this GREAT?” I called to them.

One laughed and the other said, “Yes, it is!”

I don’t suppose I need to tell you that I did make it for an hour and a half.  My bladder even cooperated, although after a ten-minute cool-down walk I was JUST in time to the bathroom (sorry if that gave you an unfortunate mental image).

And now I see I have written quite a long blog post about it.  Sorry if I rambled on.  Now I must hurry and get ready for the cook-out.  After all, it’s still the 4th here.   Hope you’re enjoying yours.

 

Running with a Full Deck?

Today I am going to do a real Running Commentary.  The Boilermaker is only a week and three days away (counting today which, since I already ran is kind of already past) (let’s say nine more chances to run before the Boilermaker.  Only nine?  Yikes!).

I took yesterday off from running.  There were thunderstorms, so running outside was not a good idea.  I thought maybe a bout on the mini-tramp, but, oh well, never got around to it.  This morning I was happy to see that it was not raining.  Steven had to be up at five.  I got up, into running clothes and set out.

I had it in my head to not run any hills.  A good fairly flat run at an early hour for me is to run to the Erie Canal Trail, follow the trail to the South Washington Bridge, then go home from there, directly or not as the spirit moves me.  Being July 2  (I started to type “June” silly me), the sun was up, although it was cloudy.  Very pleasant running conditions, I thought.

I  soon found it was also humid, but the occasional breeze relieved that.  I could rock this.  The other day on Facebook, I posted that my runs go like this: This sucks, what am I thinking?  This sucks marginally less.  This doesn’t suck.  This is all right.  I can rock this. Yes, I needed this.  This is AWESOME!  I LOVE to run!  I can run for DAYS!  The cycle repeats itself on longer runs.

Thinking about it now, I see that I sometimes skip steps.  For example, this morning I started out with “this is all right” and quickly moved to “I can rock this.”  I pretty much went back and forth between those stages. Note to self:  apparently one day off is OK, don’t make it more.  In fact, I may not take any more days off between now and the Boilermaker.  We’ll see.

As I ran down Mohawk Street towards the Canal Trail, I saw some artificial flowers in the road.   I supposed somebody had dropped them.  They looked pristine but would no doubt soon be run over and wrecked.   What a waste!  I could use those flowers!  A big old truck was  approaching on the opposite side of the street.  Oh, he wouldn’t hit me.  I sprinted out and grabbed the flowers.

It was a red, white and blue bunch from one of the dollar stores.  The price tag was still on it.  I wondered if I looked silly running along carrying a patriotic bouquet.  Perhaps I merely looked, you know, patriotic.  At least it didn’t weigh very much.

Soon I was on the canal trail.  Nice.  I liked looking at the canal.  It was still.  In California I sometimes ran on a path near the ocean.  I could see water crashing against the rocks.  I had the fanciful thought that the water was releasing energy that would magically travel through the air and energize me.  Do I hear unkind laughter?  Perhaps I should not share my fanciful thoughts, although this one did help me run in California.  Now I looked at the calm canal and realized no energy would be forthcoming.  I thought perhaps the peacefulness could sooth my mind.  A calm mind can help you run.

My run lasted for 52 minutes.  I like that number, because it means I am  playing with a full deck (cue jokes about other indications that I am not).  My legs felt pretty good, my lungs were fine, my feet weren’t too bad.  My knees were twinging a little and had been for a good portion of the run.  I must, I positively must lose weight. Perhaps I should write a blog post about that.  If only typing burned more calories.

 

Better Luck Next Tired

Full disclosure:  I did not intend to do a running commentary today.  I wrote a blog post while on breaks at work.  Unfortunately, it is too long for me to type in tonight.  Give me a break, it’s Tired Tuesday!  Could it be I am tired because I ran?  No!  I was tired to begin with.  I invite you to read on…

I spent the last couple of  hours at work telling myself that it was a VERY GOOD IDEA that I go running.  Actually, I was thinking things like, “I must, I positively must run”  and “I have to run tonight, I HAVE to.”  I re-phrased it to “very good idea” in order to short circuit my naturally rebellious nature.  Still, when it poured rain for a short time, I had a moment of hope that I would be off the hook. Only a moment, though.  In the first place, I figured it would stop raining.  In the second place, I have a mini-tramp on which I can run in place during inclement weather.

The rain stopped after a very short time.  It was sunny and breezy by the time I headed home.  Steven was already there.

“A  twenty minute  run will be sufficient for my purposes today,” I said.  I had hopes that I would run for longer once I got going, but it is difficult to predict these things.

To begin with the run was not much fun.  The sun was hot, I knew that going in.  The cooling breeze blew up into a strong wind that was dead against me.  What was that all about? Never mind, I told myself.  It will just take me longer to get from point A to point B. I wondered if it was going to rain again.  It seemed there was not a cloud in the sky, except for a few fluffy, harmless-looking white puffs. No sudden storm was going to let me off the hook ten minutes in.  That was all right too.  Just keep going.

I had a vague thought to run up the hill to Herkimer College.  I wondered if I would make it.  I have previously stated that once I start up a hill it is almost a foregone conclusion that I will make it to the top.  The question was, would I start?  I  turned at Lou Ambers Drive.  I considered stopping at the spring for a quick sip, but it wasn’t that long  into the run.  Besides, I had been drinking water all day.  Surely I was hydrated (I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).

The road has a bit of an upslope, then goes level, then goes steeply up, around a curve and up some more.  I was still on the gentle upslope when the wind against me got even stronger.  It cost a great effort to move even at my middle-aged shuffle.  I decided I would NOT go all the way up the hill.  After all, I did not intend to write a blog post about the run.  I would not have to embarrassedly confess to my readers that I started up a hill and turned off.  I would turn off into the residential area (which I like to call the suburbs) and perhaps run a hill or two there.

The  wind got stronger yet.  I was not all the way up the upslope when I said, “To Hell with this!” and turned around.  The wind almost immediately died down rather than give me a nice push. I have to wonder about that.  Was it all psychological? Or maybe a ghost?  I ask these questions now as I write this. At the time I merely felt a grim  satisfaction at having said, “To hell with it.”

I went through the parking lot of Salvatore’s, because there was some nice shade. I spent a good part of the rest of the run looking at my watch to make sure I at least ran twenty minutes.   It looked as if I would just make it. My body was not feeling any happier with me. I knew I could keep going, but it was not going to get fun.  I thought, “If I’m not into it by now, I am not going to be into it today.”

When I got back to my street, my run unexpectedly lengthened. I had crossed the street, which put me on the same side as a little dog.  I  did not want to disturb the dog, so I continued down the  block and ran up the street parallel to mine.  I felt vaguely pleased with myself over this.  The run still wasn’t fun, but I knew I could keep going.  Many of us, I reflected, can keep going for longer than we think  we can.

I ended up running for 28 minutes.  It would have been nice to make it at least a half hour, but I felt happy that I had gone over my self-mandated twenty.  As I walked my cool-down, I complimented some neighbors on a beautiful new porch they are putting up.  They said thank you. Perhaps now I can go  sit on my own perfectly attractive old porch.   Like I said, I’m tired.