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Sunday Running Commentary

Instead of my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I thought I’d try a Running Commentary. When I first got out of bed this morning I was completely disinclined to run. After some coffee and perusing the paper, I began to reconsider.

By this time I’d been up long enough to get hungry, so I thought I would eat a banana with peanut butter, wait for it to digest a little, then run. This also gave me time to watch one of our favorite shows, Mohawk Valley Living. It gave the temperature a chance to warm up a little too, although we didn’t start out as cold as we have been.

I normally run in shorts and t-shirt for anything over 45 degrees. My thermostat said 44, so I stretched a point. I had a bad moment when I put on my headband and found that my hair looked completely ridiculous. It is at that in-between stage: not long enough to do anything with, too long to do nothing about. Should I put on a hat, hiding the mop? Or just look ridiculous and say to hell with it? Then I asked myself, why was I even debating about it? Who cares what I look like when I run?

The morning was grey and gloomy, which suited me fine. Sidewalks were wet but not icy or snowy, and not too many puddles. It was after 8:30 when I set out, but traffic was OK. Early lasts later on Sunday than it does on Saturday, if you see what I mean.

I headed towards Valley Health, to run the hill by it. I must build back up to the hill to Herkimer County Community College, but these things don’t happen all in a day, or even in a week. I sternly told myself that they don’t happen at all if one continues to take four days off between runs. I had good reasons for not running those days, I argued, but I wasn’t buying it. If only guilt burned calories.

That hill was not fun. Yesterday when walking uphill I had observed that I like to walk uphill. Not too long a hill or too steep a hill, but a certain amount of hill is good when walking. I wished I was walking but continued to run. This would work. I could hang.

I felt better after the downhill and back on level ground. I realized my lungs were not happy, but my legs could totally rock this. One can’t have everything after all. I concentrated on feeling happy that at least part of me was rocking it.

I got tired earlier into the run than I expected to. It wasn’t any specific part of me that felt bad, just an overall tiredness. Yesterday when I was greatly enjoying my walk with Tabby, I had thought how blessed I was to love things. I love to walk, I love to write, I love to run, I said to myself. I asked myself this morning, was I loving this run? Um, no. But I wasn’t hating it, so that was something.

To further enjoy my run I made a conscious effort to look around at houses. One porch railing still sported black garland with skulls. Nice. One house looked abandoned. Not so good. That one had new-looking siding and porch. Nice again. That large house was crying out for a new paint job. Wait a minute, was it really crying? No, it stood there with dignity. “This is me. Take it or leave it.” Good house. I guess I get a little fanciful.

I ran for 26 minutes, which I consider respectable. There is no hurry to improve. Maintaining is good. After all, I’m not a world-class athlete training for a nationally televised event. I’m just a middle-aged lady exercising for my health, entertainment, and perhaps a blog post.

It’s My Birthday, Dammit!

My sister Diane told me I should use that as the title. I had really thought I would make a “real” post today, but I don’t know why I thought that. I’ve been running around doing things and now I’m sitting here composing at the keyboard and wanting nothing more than to get to the sweats on, bra off, sitting on my couch crocheting portion of the day.

One does the best one can, doesn’t one? I offer a Preview of Coming Attractions, which may sound remarkably like What I Did Instead of Writing a Blog Post for Today.

I started doing things yesterday with a wine tasting at Vintage Spirits, always a fun thing to write a post about. This morning I did not run, which would have led to a dandy running commentary. However, I may run tomorrow, so we have that to look forward to (me the run and writing the post, you reading the post) (if you like that sort of thing). I did, however, finish two letters and write three post cards which I then mailed, walking to the post office with my delightful schnoodle, Tabby. Walks with Tabby are often good for a post.

My day was just getting started. I went to a craft fair at the Saquoit Middle School with my sister Cheryl and my mother. What fun that was! And it involved an enjoyable drive over scenic country roads. The journey and the destination are worth writing about. My trip home, with almost freezing rain, was equally memorable.

Back in Herkimer, I stopped at Valley Wine and Liquors where another wine tasting was going on. Oh stop shaking your heads and calling me a lush (you know who you are), I only tasted a few wines. We didn’t even open the bottle we purchased last night and what I bought today I intend to save for Thanksgiving. There is every chance we will open last night’s bottle and have a glass or two tonight, but for heavens’ sake, did you not read the title of the piece? It’s my birthday, dammit! Sheesh!

Well, this is a respectable 300 words. At least, it’s 300 words. Describe them by the adjective of your choice. I’m going back to my birthday celebrations.

Perverse Vindication

And the lame posts just keep coming. At least, this is Lame Post Friday, so I suppose there is some excuse. I did not call any of the previous few posts lame in so many words, but I feel that they were. Do I feel bad about this? Marginally. After all, I think even lame, I am fairly amusing. Or do I flatter myself?

No matter, I am sitting here at my little acer, typing off the cuff. It is what I do many times in my blogging life. However, on Lame Post Friday, it is what I am SUPPOSED to be doing! Vindication is mine!

In fact, today is the day for random observations and half-baked philosophy. What can I come up with under those headings?

Here is an observation about myself: Bad weather makes me laugh. I had a slightly dicey drive into work this morning, due to snow. As I got out of my vehicle to walk into work, I was laughing. Not for any reason that I could name, except that I found it fun. Cold, wet, perhaps a little dangerous (I definitely felt some slipperiness under the snow), yet somehow also fun. Call it my perverse nature.

Ooh, that sounds like an opportunity for some half-baked philosophy: WHY do I find bad weather fun? Do I, in fact, have a perverse nature (no, NOT perverted! Shut up, you) (you know who you are). (There should be a question mark there, but then it seemed as if I was questioning if you know who you are and I know you do.)

Well, that fulfills both requirements. I’m thinking I have talked about this before, the bad weather and my reaction to it. Oh well, these things happen. I’ll try for something more original tomorrow. Happy Friday, everyone.

How Do You Spell “Get My Act Together”?

I may institute a new feature: Panic Button Day. That is when I have something to do in the evening, several things to get done before that, and no blog post written. Why, oh why did I not write something on break at work? Well, I tried. All I could manage was a letter to my sister, in which I lamented that I couldn’t think of anything to write a blog post about.

My event of the evening is the monthly dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre. That is a bonafide Mohawk Valley adventure, which I could in fact write about after I go there. But I’ll be tired by then. And the dinner is BYOB and, well, I thought I would. Never drink and type. You make a lot of typos that way.

A pause while I look up “bonafide.” I have a big red Random House Webster’s College Dictionary that was given to me by a friend many years ago. It is invaluable at times like these. My computer is highly unreliable. For example, the dictionary says it’s “bona fide” or “bonafide.” My computer underlines both versions. Quite frankly, I don’t think technology is all it’s cracked up to be.

I still have to figure out what to wear to my meeting. This makes it a bonafide wrist-to-forehead occasion (I went to the trouble of looking it up, I thought I’d use it again). As usual, I am dreadfully sorry about not having a real post. But perhaps it will amuse my readers to laugh at my haplessness (not going to look up that one).

A Wednesday Kvetch

It never fails: I avoid a Tired Tuesday only to run smack dab into a Wuss-out Wednesday. What, oh what is my problem?

Did anybody answer that or did everybody accept it as a rhetorical question or perhaps an unanswerable lament. Or perhaps you took it as more kvetching, perhaps with my wrist on my forehead (I can be very self-dramatizing). Whatever, it is clear that I have a problem. I have fatigue, aches, pains, blues, etc. Could this be middle age? Say it ain’t so!

I went running yesterday. In addition to wanting to build up my run time and progress toward my weight-loss goals, I thought it would make a good blog post. And it may have, if only I would have written it. I took my dog Tabby for a walk today, another potential blog topic. One reason I mention these things is to show you that I am so active. So if anybody was gearing up to say, “Well if you got more EXERCISE, you’d have more ENERGY,” they don’t have to bother. There’s always someone.

And speaking of middle age, can I just ask, where’s menopause when you need it? It’s getting cold in the Mohawk Valley these days. I could use one of them there hot flashes.

I guess there is no point to this post, although I am glad I got to sneak in my hot flash line.

My Wrist Has Been Busy

So there I was about to write my Wrist to Forehead Sunday post, when my husband, Steven, told me of his plan to rake the front lawn. He nicely said I did not have to help, despite my natural feelings of guilt. I thought, Ah! I will write a Wrist to Forehead post about feeling guilty while he is doing that, then he can get right on the computer when he is done (he was working earlier in the day while I was… not).

Then a friend of his called on the phone and he was talking to her. Tabby and I went outside and I started raking. I am not a completely useless wife. Steven came out and worked too. I kept saying, “I’ll go in now and do my blog post while you finish this,” then deciding to do just one more thing.

At last I came inside while Steven was still outside. Oh, I would just put away the dishes I washed earlier (I am famous for washing dishes, leaving them to air dry and further leaving them for Steven to put away). Then I started thinking about how I had not yet showered for the day, and I got this tantalizing mental image of taking a hot shower and putting on some cuddly, brand-clean sweats and THEN getting on the computer. Maybe with a glass of wine.

By the time I was clean and cuddly, Steven was inside, but nicely got me a glass of wine and let me get on the computer (did mention that I have a very nice husband? Well I do). BUT first I had to check my Facebook notifications. When I finally logged onto WordPress, blogs I follow popped up. Since I was about to write a Wrist to Forehead post without feeling particularly Wrist to Forehead-y (Hello! Hot shower, cuddly sweats, would you feel like putting your wrist to your forehead?), I stalled by reading Return of the Modern Philosopher, one of my favorites.

And then I just had to comment. My comments tend to get a little long-winded, so then I had to edit.
Then I read Modern Philosopher’s post to Steven. Before I got to read him my comment (which after reading the post again I again had to edit), he said, “I want more wine!” Could he be feeling wrist to foreheady because I am hogging the computer?

And now I have to check if the Modern Philosopher replied while I was typing all this, before I hit publish.

Yes, he did respond, and I responded to his response. I wonder if my poor husband will ever be able to get on the computer.

I Just Write

How many different things can one blogger think of to say about not writing, that is the question. I know, you thought it was “To be or not to be,” but you were mistaken. It is Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual.

Hmm, that was not a bad first paragraph, or do I flatter myself? I would feel more comfortable about my future as a blogger if I had not just sat here staring at it for ten minutes unable to think of another thing to say. OK, I just said that to be dramatic. I’ve been blogging for three years and I intend to continue, lame post or not.

One accepts when one begins at a writer that some days will be better than others. At least, I accept that premise. There are those who claim that “you just write.” But we’ve covered “There is no such thing as Writer’s Block” before. And anyways, it’s Writer’s Blank.

Where was I? Oh yes, not writing and apparently unable to think of anything new to say about it. How embarrassing is that? This has been a pretty long dry spell. I mean, I have had some not terrible blog posts (or do I flatter myself?), but the novel remains at a standstill. I don’t know how good my last couple of magazine articles were. I may have had a couple of good lines in some letters and post cards I have written.

Oh hell, Cindy, just end it and get off stage. This post is lame. Try again tomorrow.

And looking back, I’m not sure how good the first paragraph was either.

Another Fine Blog Post

Oh, I’m a bad blogger. I say it in a Lou Costello voice. At least, I don’t recall Costello ever saying that in any of the movies, but cartoon versions of him always found an opportunity to say, “Oh, I’m a bad boy.” I was never a huge Abbot and Costello fan to begin with. I prefer Laurel and Hardy (This is another fine mess you’ve gotten me into!).

As you may have guessed, this is another Wuss-out Wednesday. I had thought to have a Mid-Week Middle-aged Musing, but it got no further than the first two sentences: Discombobulate is a good word. I declare discombobulate to be the word of the day.

I wrote those two sentences while at work today, thinking I should not wuss out for at least one Wednesday. But I could not think of anything to add. I thought, “That’s OK. Steven and I are doing laundry tonight. I’ll write at the laundromat.” That did not work out as well as I had hoped. I had a dreadful sinus headache. I could not write a blog post. I could not work on my novel. I did manage to finish a poem I had started, about a couple of co-workers. I can’t share that here, though, because it names names.

I’m afraid today is veering beyond Wuss-out Wednesday and into Blogger’s Sick Day. The thing I feel bad about now is the title. I thought of it when I made the parenthetical comment referencing Laurel and Hardy. I thought better words would surely be forthcoming after that. It turns out not so much. I guess that’s what I get for composing at the keyboard.

Rocking the Tired Tuesday Run

Note to self: When you run on a Tuesday, so you can write about the run and not have another Tired Tuesday post, write the blog post as soon as you are done running. If you wait you may become too tired.

Well, never mind how tired I think I am. I ran and I am going to write a blog post about it. I ran Saturday but not Sunday. I had thought to run Monday but took my dog, Tabby, for a long walk instead. I know I won’t run Wednesday, because we are doing laundry (may write a blog post about that). So I thought walk Monday, run Tuesday (for anyone concerned about my getting enough exercise, Steven, Tabby and I all took a nice walk on Sunday) (for anyone concerned Tabby misses her walk when I run, she always walks my cool-down with me. A shorter walk, perhaps, but she seems OK with it).

Be all that as it may, today was an unseasonably warm day: in the 60s. I reminded myself all day that I intended to run, just to get in the proper mindset. I changed into running clothes right away when I got home. Bicycle shorts and a t-shirt. Woo hoo! That is my favorite running outfit. I took off.

I ran up to German Street and turned right, so the sun was behind me. My shadow in front of me looked tall and slender. Look at those long legs! In reality, my legs are short, even for someone of my meager height. They are fairly shapely for all that, if I do say so (and why not say so? I have low enough self esteem; let me give myself a compliment once in a while). As I continue into middle-age, my legs are perhaps a trifle less shapely than when I was in my 20s, but running will no doubt help. You go, girl, I told myself.

Only I wasn’t going very fast. My best runs are certainly not the ones I take after working a full day. At least it wasn’t a 10 hour day, although I used to run after those, too. Back in the days when I was getting the sweet overtime (NOT complaining; I’m happy to still have a job. Also, it’s easier to work for eight hours than for ten) (just saying).

So I shuffled along, trying not to feel too self-conscious. I mean, I really felt that I must look pathetic. Then again, somebody pathetic who just keeps going is to be admired. And there is every chance she will look less pathetic as time goes on.

I cheered myself up by looking at people’s fall decorations. Lots of scarecrows, mostly with friendly smiles. One had a pumpkin head and an especially toothy grin. I do love fall. There are still colored leaves on some trees. I saw one large yellow tree that was still full. Later I saw three smaller bright yellow trees with two completely bare trees in front of them. I like the look of bare trees too. I am quite the tree lover.

As I kept running (I realize that is a generous term for what I was doing), it did not get any easier, but it did not get substantially harder either. I ran for 25 minutes, matching my previous few runs. As Tabby walked my cool-down with me, I felt happy that I had run. For a middle-aged shuffle on a Tired Tuesday, it was not too bad of a run. I did not feel at the time that I was rocking it, but I realize in retrospect that I was.

I Did Run!

Did anybody expect Saturday Running Commentary to continue for two weeks? Personally I had my doubts. In fact, I got up this morning at the lamentable hour of 3:30 with no immediate plans to run. After all, I had all day. This isn’t summer, when I have to get my run in before the heat of the day. I had some coffee with my husband, read Friday’s papers, played a little solitaire, ate a piece of peanut butter toast. Nice morning.

About 5:30 I decided to get in the shower. Steven had to work at 6:30, so he would still be here to put lotion on my back (a very convenient aspect of having a husband). As I went upstairs, I realized I was feeling down. Nothing horrible, but a little… depressed. What a dumb state of affairs for my day off. If I went running, I thought, I would feel better. I should go running.

I would go running! I confess, the thought of “should go running” occurred to me as a regret that I hadn’t, not an encouragement to. After all, I had eaten peanut butter toast. Had it digested enough? No matter! Where were some running clothes?

I found a semi-dirty pair of long johns and a long-sleeved t-shirt. The long johns were just these thin polyester jobs. I don’t think they’re really made to be warm; I think they are just another layer to put on. I usually wear them as a comfortable alternative to pantyhose. They work as leggings.

Before I got to the end of the driveway I turned around and ran back into the house for my hat, my black knitted toque. It was under 40 degrees, according to my thermostat. I only wished I had gloves, too. Off I went.

I ran to Valley Health, to run the hill it stands on. Regular readers may recall that that is my starter hill. It’s kind of steep, not too long. An effort, but doable. I did it.

I was glad I had worn my reflective vest, because it has a zipper pocket. I had a tissue in the pocket, and I needed it. It didn’t feel too cold once I got moving, but it was cold enough to make my nose run. Sorry if you find it disgusting of me to mention it.

A few lights were on in houses I ran by. A number of vehicles drove by. Not everybody sleeps in on a Saturday. Many porch lights were on. For people who never made it home last night? What racy things were they up to? I prefer to think about people up to racy things than getting into accidents or prosaically forgetting to turn the porch light off.

A scarecrow backlit by a porch light leaned at an eerie angle. I felt pleased to think of Halloween lasting a little longer, although I suppose the eeriness was unintentional. I felt happier and happier with myself that I was out there running. Yeah, I’m bad!

I finished the run and cool-down walk with Tabby before Steven had to leave for work, although he was not there for my shower (one makes these compromises). I had run the same length of time I had on Monday and last Saturday, 25 minutes. Taking Tuesday through Friday off was perhaps not the best thing to do. In my defense, I voted on Tuesday, I spent a lot of time Wednesday walking up and down my yard dismantling my container garden, and it rained on Thursday.

But what a lovely feeling to have run and made my blog post before 8 a.m. on a Saturday. Bring on the rest of the day!