Tag Archives: Boilermaker

Just Saying

Earlier today I wrote the title of a blog post. Then I drew a line under it and wrote a paragraph of a different blog post. Then I turned the page and wrote pretty much an entire other blog post.

And here I am, typing off the cuff. Yes, I am taking another Blogger’s Sick Day. I have had a dreadful headache for most of the day. I know, other people have debilitating headaches and manage to write decent blog posts, or at least not to complain to all and sundry about them. Well, you may have noticed previously, in most cases, I am not other people.

The sad thing is that last Friday I had a much worse headache and actually managed a not bad blog post. Or do I flatter myself? Probably. In my defense, I had that post already written and had merely to copy it.

Ah, my astute reader asks, what about the entire other blog post you mentioned in paragraph one? Can’t you just type that one in? Somehow, I just don’t feel I can. You see, I wrote about how I MIGHT run the Boilermaker. Only, you see, I wrote the post, but I did not come home and run. How hypocritical is that? A whole post about running the Boilermaker from a person who did NOT run? I can’t do it.

I did take my dog Tabby for a walk. As I walked, I reflected on a saying I made up earlier in the week:

Standing burns more calories than sitting, walking burns more calories than standing, running burns more calories than walking, and walking your dog is just always a good thing to do.

I will now try to come up with a silly headline and wish you all a pleasant Non-Sequitur Thursday.

The Return of Running Commentary

I have missed my Saturday Running Commentary. In fact, I’ve missed running. I keep picturing particular streets I used to run down and thinking, “Damn.” I have no excuse for stopping when I did. And the reason I stayed stopped for so long is simple inertia: an object at rest tending to stay at rest. In my defense, I was busy with a play, and then I got sick, and I have been going to Curves. Oh, I know, excuses, excuses. Let’s get on with the post.

That was a long first paragraph. I usually don’t do that.

Where was I? Ah yes, about to run. I got up Saturday at 4:30 a.m., actually earlier than I have to get up for work. My husband Steven has an early shift today. I thought, perfect, I’ll run as soon as he leaves. It’ll still be cool and quiet. I followed this plan.

Previously when I have written about running, I haven’t liked to say how long I run. I’m worried it’ll hurt my street cred. But today I thought, others who run similarly short times may feel encouraged. And those who are apt to point and laugh are probably going to do so regardless (you know who you are).

I hadn’t done anything week before last due to being sick. This past week, however, I returned to Curves and put in three workouts. That’s about 30 minutes of fairly intense exercise. I thought, therefore, that I could probably run for 30 minutes. After all, I do not run at an intense rate. This could work. I set out.

And almost immediately wondered if after two months off (two months? Eek!), running for a full half hour was the right thing to do. Maybe 15 minutes would be better. After all, start slow, build up. Isn’t that the right way to do it? And how about my original plan to run up the hill by Valley Health? Surely one could start out with a level run and feel good about it.

I decided to compromise. I would run the hill at whatever slow rate seemed good at the time. As for total run time, I would see what happened. 15 minutes would be acceptable. 20 would be better. If by some weird chance I made 30, well, woo hoo for me. I wouldn’t expect such miracles.

The weather report expected a scorcher today. Or maybe a steamer. You know, humidity. In any case, by 6:30 this morning the sun was up and I was soon feeling the heat. That was OK. It wasn’t too bad, especially when I could find some shade. I was going to rock that hill.

It wasn’t much fun at first. German Street goes gradually uphill as you approach Valley Health from my street. You wouldn’t think these subtle upgrades would be a problem, but I was really feeling it.

I saw another runner coming towards me, on the road. I was on the sidewalk. I prefer to run on the sidewalk away from cars, but I sometimes feel a little self-conscious about it. It seems like “real” runners run in the road. I pondered what made a “real” runner (yes, I put in in quotes in my head as I thought about it). I waved when we passed each other. The other runner said good morning in a perfectly friendly fashion.

Up the hill. Oof. I made it. Only seven minutes into the run. That was good, right? Now I was all done with hills for the day. The run got a lot more fun after that. Well, maybe not fun, but at least I reached the “I can rock this” stage.

I went for 23 minutes, followed by a 12 minute cool-down walk with my schnoodle Tabby (she won’t run with me, but she loves the cool-down walk). I thought that was pretty good. It’s a rebuilding year for me. I had no thoughts of running the Boilermaker anyways. All I really want is to be in 5K shape by the DARE run in August. I can rock that.

I Ran, I Commented, I’m Done

I wondered if any of my readers missed Saturday Running Commentary, so I thought I would run and comment today. I never ran till after 2, when Steven went to work, but I figured you can do that in the fall.

The trouble with waiting to run is that you’ve got plenty of time to talk yourself out of it, which I almost did. I went to the store to buy groceries instead. As I was pushing the cart back after loading three big bags into my truck, I realized I was happy to be outdoors, because it was such a nice day. Well, self, I thought, there is one good activity that will get you outdoors for a little longer.

Of course, raking leaves is another activity that would get me outdoors and that definitely needs to be done. Still, I’m trying to get back into running and it is not going to be easy due to certain other time commitments I have recently made. I decided to run.

I was not immediately glad I did. Sometimes waiting till later in the day is a good thing: your muscles are not stiff and just waking up, you’ve eaten something nutritious (I hope), OK, that’s all I got. My muscles felt that they had been working enough (only walking, but you know how leg muscles are). My body acted as if it hadn’t been fed in days (like that’s ever going to happen!). I just kept going.

A friend of mine has been mentioning to people lately how I run up the hill to Herkimer County Community College. I have not run that hill in at least a month (too lazy to go downstairs and look it up in my running journal), but I figure if Phyllis is going to be talking about it I’d better get back to doing it. Only not today. I turned in that direction, though, because there are a couple less intimidating hills I thought I might be up to.

Finally I settled on the Unknown Park. I recently learned that it is in fact Brookfield Park, but I am so used to calling it the Unknown, I may continue to do so. There is a pretty good upslope as soon as you turn in. Wasn’t fun. Ran it anyways.

A couple of young girls were walking towards me, but they crossed to the other side of the road when they saw me. That was good, because it put them on left side facing traffic (of which there was none just then). I don’t think they did it to be safe, I think they did it to avoid the crazy old lady (me), but I was glad to see it nonetheless.

As I ran through the path in the woods I stopped to pet an adorable black pug, with the owners’ permission. I think he was just a puppy. He was so wiggly and cute, I ran on feeling refreshed. One more short upslope, I told myself, and then it’s downhill all the way. I felt good about that, because I knew I wasn’t lying. Not like on the Boilermaker when they keep telling you it’s all downhill from here and you know darn well it’s not.

Back on the road, I was going to turn left where it said “No Left Turn” as usual (must be a rebel, after all), but I saw a group of male college students walking in the opposite direction, right side with traffic, of course. I had no reason to think they might say anything rude, yet I did not feel inclined to run right into them. I thought, I never go straight at this intersection, I’ll go straight for once. Not that it was a road less traveled, because I run on that stretch of road all the time going toward the college. Still, a different direction is at least something different.

I stopped to pet two more cute dogs on German Street. They were the shaggy kind, Llasa Apsos or Shih Tsus or something. One backed off, the other was friendly. Then as I ran on the shy one ran after me.

“Now she wants to be petted,” the owner said, with a laugh. I turned around and obliged. “She has to play hard to get,” the owner said.

I ended up running longer than I had run Tuesday or Thursday, so I felt pretty good about that. Other than that satisfaction, though, I felt tired. I managed to spend a little time raking leaves, just because I thought I ought to (I know, I say I never do what I ought to, but I guess once in a while I do). Then I felt beat. Dare I say, too beat to write a decent blog post? Yet I see I am over 800 words. I’ll say today I went for quantity, not quality.

DARE to be Different

I always compare the Herkimer, NY DARE 5K favorably to the Utica Boilermaker. It is, perhaps, an unfair comparison. Herkimer is a village, Utica is a city. The Boilermaker is an international event, the DARE 5K is a local fundraiser. Of course I love the Boilermaker. Just look at how many posts I’ve written about it — even last year when I didn’t run it.

But there is no denying the Boilermaker puts on the pressure, and not only because it is three times as long. To pick up my packet I had to drive to Utica two days before the event, threading my way through an intense amount of traffic on my way to a HUGE running expo. At least by driving I would be sure to have my driver’s license with me, because you must show ID and ONLY pick up your own packet (actually, I think this year there was some provision to have somebody else pick up your packet for you, but that didn’t concern me).

Showing up for race day itself is something of an ordeal. I was dropped off, so I had no parking worries. Others were not so fortunate (neither was I, two years ago). 14,000 runners is certainly a lot. We were herded through a field around to the end of the starting line (instead of easily walking there by the most direct route), where the enormous number of porta-potties was yet not enough. And the crowd at the end of the race. Yikes! I just managed to find my way to where I was meeting my ride.

Of course the Utica Boilermaker is a wonderful thing in which to participate. There is even a kind of a fascination in being part of a crowd that large. But crowds are not and will never be one of my favorite things.

Compare all this to the Herkimer DARE 5K, whose starting line is conveniently located about three blocks from my house. I realize they did not do this as a personal favor to me, but I certainly enjoy it.

My schnoodle, Tabby, and I walked down to pick up my number and goody bag the morning of the race, leaving early enough to be one of the lucky first 200 who received a t-shirt. I knew it would be all right for Tabby to walk into the social hall of Christ Episcopal Church, because she has been there before. Last year I picked up my nephew’s stuff, too. It was most convenient.

I brought Tabby back home, because this year I did not have a cheering section to take charge of her while I ran. I walked back down shortly before 8:30, when the Junior Fun Run began. I wandered around, taking in the scene.

Lots of runners were stretching, chatting, drinking water. They all looked more athletic than me. Well, now how could that be, I reasoned with myself. I ran the Boilermaker, for heavens’ sake! Of course, I have slacked off on my training since then. And, let’s be honest, I did not exactly run the Boilermaker. It was more of a middle-aged shuffle.

I don’t know why I have to freak myself out this way before these runs. I know perfectly well that I am going to run slower than most yet faster than a few, and that I will handily run the distance without walking yet give myself a VCD attack by sprinting it out at the end. These things are not unpredictable. Just run your run, I tell myself.

That is also what other runners tell me. I got into a nice conversation with two young ladies before the race. I told them I was going to mention them in my blog, but I don’t imagine they will actively seek it out, which is just as well, because I’m not being nearly as descriptive as I had imagined I would be.

A lady from the Herkimer Telegram was looking for somebody to say something she could use in the paper. I told her we were there because it was fun.

It was fun. And, dare I say, relaxing. The run was on familiar streets, and afterwards I walked myself home with a minimum of fuss. What’s not to like?

Chasing Shade

I may have used that headline before. If so, sorry. But I’m back to All Boilermaker All The Time with another post about a preparatory run.

I’ve been tapering off this week, not pushing myself too hard. I remember when I was on the swim team in high school (roughly a hundred years ago), we went into a taper at the end of the season. Now I was the opposite of athletic in high school but joined the swim team because my friend was on it. I pretty much hated it. The girls in the slow lane, where I was naturally assigned to work out, were snotty and mean. And the not athletic thing really worked against me. Still, I didn’t get kicked off and I love to swim. As with many things, it had its moments.

So after struggling, struggling with workouts that were too hard and fast for me, the taper was sweet relief. The more athletic girls had loads of excess energy. I just felt less inclined to burst into tears.

And so it is this week. I’m running shorter lengths of time. I’m maintaining a leisurely pace. My last major hill was Monday. I can’t say I’ve found it sweet relief, though. A front of heat and humidity is moving through the Mohawk Valley, and I have to say I don’t like it much.

At least I’m not running at four in the afternoon. You would think getting out between 6 and 7 a.m. would be before the heat of the day. Not so much.

I decided that this morning I would run no hills at all. It was 6:13 when I started out. By all indications, it should have been a delightful run.

I don’t know how the sun gets to be so bright and hot that early in the morning. I quickly found that it wasn’t that bad in the shade. I had started out with a couple of different plans on where to run. I discarded both of them and chose which street and which side of the street based on where I could find the most shade.

I was soon twisting and turning through residential streets wondering how a forty minute run could feel as long as an hour and twenty minute run. I resolutely refused to look at my watch every sixty seconds. That helped.

I noted flowers and lawn decorations as I ran. That helped, too. One front lawn had a profusion of yellow day lilies. Yes, the word “profusion” popped into my head as I saw them. My mom gave me some yellow day lily bulbs. I’ll have to get those in the ground soon.

At one point a lovely cooling breeze flowed over me. Aaaahhh! It felt like a breeze off a body of water. I knew there was a stretch of river or canal nearby, but I didn’t think I was close enough to reap any real benefits.

I stopped very briefly to pet a cute dog. I would have liked to stop briefly at the spring, but I hadn’t run in that direction. I usually only stop for a drink on the really long runs anyways. I haven’t even taken water during either of the 5Ks I’ve run. I’ll probably follow the good advice of drinking water whenever offered on the Boilermaker. If I feel inclined to burst into tears at the end of that race, I’d like to have sufficient hydration to do so.

I felt pretty OK after my run. Dare I say, ready for the Boilermaker? I may also have solved my where to park before, where to go afterwards problem. I’m sure I’ll write a major post about the big day. Stay tuned.

Musings on the Move

But not moving very fast. You know how I run.

I’ve decided not to worry too much about All Boilermaker All The Time, because it seems to me the Utica O-D is doing the same thing. At least, A Lot Of Boilermaker. After all, they have a whole newspaper with a large readership. I have one little blog with a modest but highly intelligent readership (I’m quite certain all my readers are folks of taste and discernment and even more certain that none of them will disagree)(and, of course, by “modest” I am referring to size of said readership, not humility of individuals on which I would not pass judgement).

Where was I? Ah, yes, Middle-aged Musings Monday. What better to muse about this morning than running? And I did muse as I ran.

One thought that occurred to me yesterday and that I further pondered today was I don’t run to improve my time; I run to improve myself. That meant something different fifteen years ago from what it means now.

Fifteen (or so) years ago, I was in the army. I’ll be honest: I did want to improve my time. They give you these PT (Physical Training) tests, they post the times for all to see. You have to maintain a certain time or they could make your life even more difficult. Of course I wanted to improve my time. But that was not my whole focus.

I realized this when this guy — I won’t even say which branch of service he was in, because he was a poor representative of it — scorned my running of hills (this was in Monterrey, CA; there were plenty of hills). If you wanted to improve your run time, he said, you should work on your stride, so it was better to run a smooth, flat track. That’s all very well and good, I suppose. But what if one was forced to run in a combat situation? The enemy is not likely to provide a flat, smooth path.

Anyways, it is much more satisfying to run hills, and a lot more interesting to have variety in the terrain. And running off road is fun! I did not argue all this with the guy. I just kept doing what I was doing. Any my run time did improve, so there.

Now I run purely for me (and for the amusement of anybody that wants to point and laugh, I suppose). These days I’m more interested in enjoying the scenery and thinking of things to write in my blog that I am in a hard core workout. Along the way I manage to put in a fair amount of effort, but I don’t need to think about PT tests or worry about combat situations.

So what am I improving, if not my time? I’m improving my weight by calories burned. I’m improving my powers of perseverance. I’m improving my knowledge of village streets as well as my observational skills. I’m improving my mood, because even if I don’t get that endorphin boost, I feel good about myself that I got out and did it.

Am I improving my blog? Well, that’s a judgement call. All I can do is keep running and writing. See you Tuesday.

Into the Woods

I suppose some readers might be tired of posts about running, but the Boilermaker is one week from today! In fact, one week from right now as I write this, I will be done running the Boilermaker (but not done writing about it, as I’m sure you’ve guessed). Besides, I ran somewhere different today, and I think that is worth a post.

I started with my usual Sunday run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the front way. I tell you what, that hill does not get any easier. As I fought my way up it, I reflected on the Boilermaker vs Herkimer’s D.A.R.E. 5K. For a 15K, it is impressive just to go the distance. For a 5K, less so. Unless the 5K includes a big old steep hill. Then you get kudos for just not walking. And if you do walk you still get kudos for just not stopping. And if you do stop, well, there’s always next year. I don’t intend to stop, and I did not stop today.

I kept going up onto the campus, so I was still running uphill. It was after 7 o’clock and already the sun was hot. Well, that just makes it better practice for the Boilermaker, I told myself. And on the Boilermaker there is a considerable number of places where they offer you water. That will be nice. I sure could have used a little shade, though.

My goal was to run for an hour and twenty minutes. That mean I had time to kill (if the time didn’t kill me) (such an outcome was, of course, unlikely, but I had to make the play on words). I decided to run on the nature trail. There would be lots of shade there.

I used to walk the trail once a week with a friend, and Steven and I have taken Tabby there several times. We have not been there in a long time, but I felt fairly confident I could get in and out without getting lost in the woods. On reflection, I don’t know why I thought that. I get lost all the time in the silliest places. If it’s a choice between a left and a right, at least eight times out of ten I will pick the wrong one. Either I trust my instinct and it’s wrong, or I don’t trust it and it’s right. No matter. Even if I got lost, the trail doesn’t go that deeply into the woods. At worst, I would come out on some back road and have to run back to the college. There might be a lot of bugs in the woods. That’s all right, too, I thought. I have witch hazel to put on but bites. Really, there was no reason not to continue.

I could see right away that they had maintained the trail. I followed a nice path of wood chips into the forest. I remembered this, sure I did. I crossed a wooden bridge over a dry stream bed. The path was clear, no choices right or left yet. I could rock this. My only problem was not much breeze, and I had forgotten my headband.

I could hear a woodpecker in the distance that sounded much louder and a little slower than I thought woodpeckers sounded. Maybe it was a mutant woodpecker. Then I came to a sign that said Outer Loop with arrows pointing in opposite directions. Swell! I picked right.

This path was a lot longer than I remembered. It was so twisty I couldn’t tell what direction I was headed in. Some people might have been able to judge by the position of the sun, but I couldn’t remember where the sun was when I went in (oh, I know the sun doesn’t move, we do; you know what I mean).

I knew there was a section that goes out into some fields. You’re still surrounded by vegetation, so you can’t just crash through to the road, and it goes on and on and on. I did not want to go there. Here was another choice. I was sure the left led to that path. I chose right. No! Right went to the path. I went back to go left instead. No! Left went that way too! I went back right. For one thing, part of that path was soft pine needles that felt good on my feet. Then I noticed a third choice.

More pine needles. Ah! Then I saw a shelter I remembered, and a picnic table. Oh, was this the way back to where I came in? Yes! It was! I still had a ways to go and a couple of good upslopes to navigate, but I could see the athletic fields in the distance through the trees and knew I was on the right track.

I emerged from the woods triumphant, and not even half-way through my hour and twenty minutes. No matter. I could loop around the athletic fields and onto Reservoir Road. Then it was downhill and shade till I got to the spring for my mid-run drink.

The rest of the run was pretty good. I petted three dogs, found some nice shade, enjoyed the occasional breeze. I also ran up the hill by Valley Health, just to be hard core (at least as hard as my core gets). I’d say I’m feeling semi-confident about the Boilermaker. My main goal now is to blog about something else at least a couple of times between now and then. Stay tuned!

Not a Dead End Run

I ran for an hour and thirteen minutes on Sunday. I did not run on Monday. The Boilermaker is bearing down on me like Nemesis (when it is capitalized it means the goddess of retribution; uncapitalized, of course, it is our favorite superhero’s main enemy). So I definitely wanted to run on Tuesday (today).

I was delighted that it was cooler than it has been. I would not have let high temperatures deter me, but I figured I would be more comfortable and perhaps run further. I set out.

And my body immediately demanded to know what the hell I was thinking. I was stunned by the question. I had skipped one day! Just one day! What was all this stiffness? Where did these sore muscles come from? I remembered that I did not stretch immediately following Sunday’s run. Could that have started the mischief?

I debated if and which hills to run. To run hills, of course, I have to cross German Street. I bargained with myself: if I could cross at the end of my street, I would head toward the college or Valley Health and run one of those hills. If not, I would head towards Main Street. If I could cross at Main Street, I would run up that hill. If I could not cross at Main Street, I was off the hook.

Main Street looked busy. It is a four way stop, so it is never impossible to cross, but it is sometimes tricky. You may get the “go ahead” wave from one car and not another. Or somebody might be turning without their signal (I HATE that!). Look at all those cars! I could never cross. Then I realized I could. Yes! I sprinted. Then I wondered why I was so happy to run up a hill.

The hill is part of a dead end street that didn’t used to be a dead end street. A car can’t go beyond a certain point, but a person can. At least, the last time I ran it one could. Oh dear, it is a steep hill. Still, it is my goal to run the tough ones. I got to the point where no car may go. I hoped no Herkimer authorities would read my blog and come yell at me for running there. I wondered if I could gloss over the dead end aspect of the street when I wrote the post. As you see, I did not. In fact, I saw a bunch of footprints in some dirt, so I knew I was not the only one to go there. I thought it would be OK. I ran on.

And kept going up. I did not go up as far as the hill goes, though, because that would bring me out too far onto Steuben Road, which has no sidewalks way out there. And cars go kind of fast. When I got onto Steuben, I got over onto the shoulder as far as I could. One truck coming toward me slowed way down when he got near me, perhaps because a car was coming in the opposite direction so he could not get over. I gave him the “thank you” wave. Another truck neither slowed down nor moved over. You’ll have that. At last I was back on the sidewalk.

My legs were feeling better as the run went on, as was my mood. I didn’t mention this before, but I was sorely in need of endorphins today. I never know if I am getting endorphins or not. I mean, on the rare occasions that I get the “I LOVE to run!” feeling, I’m pretty sure that’s endorphins. The “I can rock this” stage, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s a lower dose.

Endorphins or not, as I walked my cool down with Tabby, I realized I felt… better. And you know, when it comes to the Boilermaker, SOMEBODY has to be dead last. There’s no shame in it. A little embarrassment, I suppose. Then again, perhaps that is a small favor I could do for the other 13,999 runners.

Kick Butt Run

I keep saying it’s All Boilermaker All The Time, but it’s really Running A Lot Of The Time. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? This by way of introduction to another post about my day’s run.

It was just prior to 6:30 this morning (Saturday) when I set out. I love running early in the morning. The air is cool, the traffic is sparse, my body is fresh, and best of all: I get it over and done with! Oh, I like to run. I enjoy moving my body, I enjoy looking around at the scenery, I enjoy calling remarks to chance passersby and petting the occasional dog. I know some people don’t particularly like to run but like to have run (much like some writers despise writing but adore to have written). No question: there are many runs that turn into a painful slog and the only good thing I can say about it is, “At least I did it.” I believe I’ve written blog posts about some of mine (and that makes two good things I can say about it; let’s hear it for writing a blog!). And even on a good run, it is a lovely feeling to know I don’t have to run again before tomorrow.

That was a rather long paragraph to say that today’s was a Good Run (yes, I have to capitalize it). And that makes an interesting observation: I get short winded when I run and long winded when I write about it.

I had an idea to run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. As I ran, I wondered if I should instead run up the kick-butt way. I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before, because I haven’t run there in a while, but there is a third way to get up the hill to HCCC. It goes by the dormitories and curves around, going up in several places in a rather steep fashion. It’s longer than the back way and steeper than the front way. The worst of both worlds. I don’t run it very often.

As I approached the first hill, I said to myself, “Well, that doesn’t look too kick-butt-y.” and my beleaguered butt said, “Kick-butt-y enough!” Not that my butt bears the brunt of running pain. My legs and my lungs do, and occasionally my lower back. None of them were complaining, so I told my butt to shut up and ran on (yes, I talk to my body parts when I run; it passes the time). I knew the kick butt way ends with an extremely steep little path that comes right out on the front road to the college. Then I could run back down.

Soon I realized I wasn’t sure I remembered which way to run around the dorms. Did this way go up or down? Did this road go through or end in a parking lot? There was a set of wooden stairs I remembered. Ah, running stairs. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top but there was a nice level stretch. That was soon going back down. Oh dear, it looped around and brought me back to the stairs. I didn’t want to run up the stairs again! Try this way. No good.

It seemed the only thing to do was to go down a little ways, then the rest of the way up the back way. As I did this, I realized I would not be going the rest of the way up the back way; I would be going ALL the way up the back way! Well, I told myself, you wanted to get your butt kicked. There are a lot of hills on the Boilermaker. I would be ready.

When I got to the top of the back way, I ran into a dorm parking lot, seeking the last, steep kick butt-y path. Otherwise, I didn’t really feel I had gone up the kick butt way. At last I found it. And realized I had come the wrong way. I had actually missed some steep stuff leading up to the last path. Well, I would have to explore that another day. I went up the last bit.

After this it’s downhill all the way, I promised myself, then reflected that that was the way by body was headed anyways. Ah, running is ever a metaphor for life. As I ran down, I got a horrible stitch in my side. I lifted my hands over my head and breathed deeply, which I have been told helps. I thought I might as well make triumphant fists and pretend somebody was singing the chorus of “We Are the Champions.” I looked at my shadow and thought I looked more like I was surrendering. “Don’t shoot me, Mr. Police Officer!” I kept running.

I was not even halfway to my time. Ugh. I ran around a block before stopping at the spring, so I could get my little drink at least halfway through my run. Now, I told myself, just a leisurely jaunt through the streets of Herkimer, no hills, no worries.

It really was not bad. There was lots of shade to be found. I crossed any street I felt like with very little problem. At one point, I realized the stitch in my side was gone. When did that happen? My legs felt tired near the end, but did not reach that macaroni-like state that causes me to ponder al denti vs. overcooked. And when I got home I fixed myself a ham, egg and cheese sandwich on a whole wheat English muffin. Ah! I do love a satisfying breakfast after a good long run.

And now I have done my two most important chores of the day: running and writing my blog post. Oh, I know, there are other things like laundry and cleaning and gardening. Priorities, people! The Boilermaker is two weeks away! I think it will be fun.

Good Run, Dull Post

I did have some authentic Mohawk Valley adventures on Friday, but Saturdays (today), I like to write about my morning’s run. For one thing, thinking about what I’m going to write sometimes keeps me running. Someone may argue that I can think about what I could write and I wouldn’t have to actually write it — you know, placebo effect. But I don’t think that would continue to work. And I needed extra motivation to run, because I had a dreadful headache this morning. So here I go.

That is, there I went, about 6:30 this morning, shortly after Steven left for work (love it when he has the early shift), enjoying the cool temperature and lack of traffic. I decided to run up Stueben Hill. For one thing, it’s a hill and I want to train on hills for the Boilermaker and DARE 5K. For another, if I get ambitious later I can drive where I ran and see how far a distance I made.

At the beginning I was running right into the sun. Ugh. Not so easy to see straight ahead. That hill is always further away than I think it is. At last I reached it. Now the sun was in a more reasonable position. That is, I was in a more reasonable position in relation to the sun. I accomplish a lot on these runs, but I don’t think I have managed to actually move the sun (split infinitive there, some people don’t like that. Sorry). And of course the hill looked steeper than I had been thinking. They always do. Is that a metaphor for life or what?

I mostly stayed on the road itself, not the soft dirt shoulder. The soft dirt may have been easier on my feet, but I also thought it would be more effort. My headache did not seem as bad now that I was out in the fresh air exerting myself, but I just didn’t feel up to too much effort. That is one reason I like to run distances. Slow and steady. Sometimes you don’t even realize the effort you are making.

It’s nice to run a street you don’t run all the time. Different things to look at. The sidewalk on this road ends right away and it feels like you are running out of town. A nice country road, although not one that takes me home, like in the John Denver song. I watched a little stream next to me. Just a trickle, really. It would stream for a while, then stop and stagnate, as if somebody had put in a miniature damn. I reminded myself not to stagnate, just to make another metaphor.

The uphill goes on for quite some time. I started to feel a little unhappy about it, but sooner than I realized, I reached Highland Avenue, where I could turn off. Perversely, I kept going up. I hadn’t been running all that long, and I intended to go for an hour. I did not want to have to spend too much time circling the streets around my house waiting for the hour to pass. I kept going a little further, then a little further, and finally turned around after 24 minutes of uphill.

It was, now that I think of it, pretty uneventful run. On my way downhill, I passed a lady at her mailbox and called a cheery good morning, which she returned.

“We got a beautiful day,” I said.

“It’s going to be,” she agreed. Actually, I thought it was beautiful right then and was going to be too hot later, but that’s just me.

I felt pretty good about my run, although my headache returned in full force as soon as I stopped. It’s finally going away, as I type this, just prior to five p.m. And I have to say, I’m a little displeased about this post. I think it’s kind of dull. Oh well, you win a few, you lose a few (although I hope I don’t lose a few readers). I ran, I wrote. I’m done.