Tag Archives: Herkimer

Where Are Those Damn Endorphins?

Posted on August 18, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So I haven’t done so well with All DARE 5K All The Time. I suppose this was a disappointment to some, a relief to others. It’s been a disappointment to me, because I would have preferred to spend the week obsessing about the silly race rather than worrying over the various crises and catastrophes I’ve been dealing with.

Be that as it may, I went running on Thursday. I had not run Tuesday or Wednesday, which I felt sure was the wrong thing to do, but in this life we cannot do everything. We make our choices and we live with the consequences (just a little half-baked philosophy there; it is Lame Post Friday after all). I thought if I just ran Thursday and Friday I could still pull off the 5K without undue stress. And for anther thing, I was in quite the foul mood and thought I could sweat it out if I beat up my body with a good hard run. I’ve done that before. I think it’s the endorphins.

My beef concoction, which I wrote about in yesterday’s blog, was simmering in the crock pot. My fancy headband of sweat-wicking material was hanging on the wooden rack with my other fine washables. My favorite sports bras were clean. I found an XL t-shirt, because I felt the need for something extra roomy. Mr. Incredible. Perfect! A superhero on my shirt to aspire to. I was off.

It was warm. How many times this summer have I missed the days of moderate temperature only to go running in the sweltering heat? I haven’t counted, but once is enough. On the brighter side, it wasn’t super humid. On the darker side, who notices these things at temperatures in the mid to upper 80s?

My legs were immediately upset with me. Was this the result of taking two days off, of working a ten-hour day, or of the stinking heat? It doesn’t matter, I told myself, because none of these conditions would apply Saturday morning. I would run again Friday. I would get a good night’s sleep. It was extremely unlikely that the temperature would be above eighty degrees at 9:15 a.m. I thought longingly of how good Saturday morning would feel. I tried not to think about how much Thursday afternoon sucked.

I ran up the hill on Main Street. Steep. I almost had a VCD attack as I neared the top (that’s vocal chord dysfunction, a breathing problem I sometimes have). I tried to breath more deeply. I refrained from throwing myself down into some grass on the side of the road and bursting into tears. I promised myself I could cry later, as long as I finished the run.

Going downhill was not the sweet relief it sometimes is, but at least it was doable. Soon I was on German Street again. Sweat started to trickle into my eyes. Wasn’t that wicking headband supposed to help that?

I saw a teenager walking along the sidewalk a short distance ahead of me. He was dressed in black with long pants. Two fashion choices I could never make in this heat. He either had very shaggy hair or was wearing one of those knitted caps you sometimes see these days (that’s how you can tell a teenager: they wear woolen hats in the summer and flip flops in the winter) (and before any younger readers accuse me of indulging in age-based stereotypes — I KNOW not all teenagers are like that and people of any age can make uncomfortable fashion choices).

Where was I? Oh yes, crossing German Street not at the corner to avoid catching up with the teenager. It really had less to do with his woolen hat than my desire to not see how long it would take me to catch up to a pedestrian. Then the bastard crossed the street too. I turned down Lansing.

Where oh where was the shade? It’s August, for heavens’ sake. Shouldn’t the sun be a LITTLE lower in the sky? I daresay it is, if only I had some way of measuring it. My run was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and, even worse, I began to realize it was NOT helping my bad mood dissipate. Where are those damn endorphins when you need them?

I crossed a street to enjoy a little shade. Then changed directions again to avoid a couple of young joggers who seemed to be trotting along with no problems whatever. Of course I was very happy for them, but I didn’t think I could smile and wave, as I like to do with pedestrians or fellow runners.

Well, the run was a means to an end, that end being that the DARE 5K will suck less. The horrible mood left me eventually, as horrible moods do. After I showered and made my blog post, I ate some of my Beef/Eggplant Crock Pot Concoction (I just now decided that is the name of the dish, like it?). It was quite delicious. And Friday’s run did not suck. Stay tuned for my coverage of the DARE 5K!

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Not Gold, Despite Coffee

Posted on August 13, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I was thinking it would be all right to go All DARE 5K All The Time for the next week or so. I’ve used that All (whatever) All The Time a few times now, but it is a misnomer. It’s really just A Lot Of Posts About (whatever). I may have already made the observation as well. Oh, what do you want from me on a Sunday?

When Steven and I first got out of bed shortly after six this morning, I said maybe I’d wait till nine, when he went to work, to run. It would be better practice for the DARE run, since that starts at nine. Then I thought better of that decision and got on my running gear.

Steven had not heard me say I would so go running and had already poured me a cup of coffee. That was OK. I would drink coffee and then run. Many athletes like a little caffeine before a work out. I’ve even been advised to do so in a couple women’s magazines. Actually, the women’s magazines usually recommend green tea. Green tea tends to have a better reputation than coffee. Well, I like that too, but today I drank coffee.

One reason I wanted to run early was that all during the week my best time to run will be 4 p.m. I’ll get plenty of practice running in the heat. The other reason was that I wanted to run out a street that has no sidewalks and I hoped to run during the time of least possible traffic.

This was Main Street. The street has a Dead End sign on it, but a pedestrian can run or walk through (I run). I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I have not run that way in a while. I hoped it would be the same. After all, if they want to make it a permanent dead end, they may entirely block it off. They hadn’t yet, though, so up I went.

The upward trend continues for quite a while. That was why I wanted to run that way. I think it is steeper and I know it is longer than the hill on the DARE run. I thought, if I can do this, I’m gold.

Of course I’m not gold. I’m not gold plated. I don’t know that I even have a cheap coat of gold spray paint. How’s that for drawing out a metaphor? At any rate, I did the best I could. After all, as I repeatedly tell myself, there is no shame in running slow. The staring at my feet trick wasn’t working well, so I looked around at houses. That worked a little better, since this isn’t a way I run very often. I always like to look at something new.

I heard a loud bark and saw a large dog in a backyard. No fence. No chain that I could see. Well, perhaps his person was right there at the back door and had just let Fido out for a business meeting. Probably Fido would stay in the back taking care of business. He came out front and barked. I told him he was a good dog and I was just leaving. He was either well trained, had invisible fencing or was just not that into chasing a middle-aged runner, because he stayed in his lawn and merely barked.

The effect of this was now I was not inclined to turn around and run back the way I came, which I had assured myself I could do if the run seemed like it was too far to keep going uphill. I looked at my watch. I hadn’t been running that long. Anyways, the hill had settled into a mild upslope. I could rock this. I could see that the end of the road was steeper. That was OK, too, I told myself. I was training for the DARE run. I needed hills.

I saw something on the road ahead that may have been a leaf with the sun hitting it, may have been shiny garbage or may have been an extra small road kill. I hate seeing road kill. I look the other way. But first I have to keep looking at it to make sure it’s road kill. After all, how silly would I feel if I suddenly realized I was averting my eyes in horror over a few leaves? Then again, who would know? Oh yeah, you guys. Tell me again why I decided to write this blog?

I was going pretty good by the time I reached the end of the road, which was now Highland, not Main. I’m not clear on when it changes. I’ll have to run it again and check. I turned onto Steuben, and it was downhill all the way. I got back to German Street much farther from my house than Main Street. That was good. I needed to keep running so the 5K wouldn’t seem too long to me.

Was that my friend Nicky with his person up ahead? I wasn’t sure, but I picked up the pace to see if I could catch up. I love to stop running briefly to pet a cute dog. They were on the other side of the street, but traffic wasn’t bad. If it was them I could easily cross. Nicky’s lady thinks it’s cool when I cross the street specifically to pet Nicky. Before I got to them, they crossed back so Nicky’s lady could talk to a lady with two shih-tzus (I think they’re shih-tzus). I got to pet all three dogs. I found out the shih-tzus were named Chunk and Chelsea.

It was really a good run, in spite of not being gold on the hill. I suppose gravity will always have its say. I’m not sure if the coffee helped or not, but it certainly tasted good, and I always like to have a cuppa with my hubby. We’ll definitely celebrate over some java after I run the DARE 5K. It’s less than a week away!

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I DAREd Myself

Posted on August 12, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I mentioned yesterday how I ran up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the front way, because it is part of the DARE 5K to be held next week. Of course, regular readers (Hi, Aunt Mary!) know that is a run I try to do regularly, just to be tough. Well, I think we all know I’m not as tough as I think I am.

This morning (Saturday) I set out to run the infamous hill again. This time I ran around the block and down Church Street instead of German Street to get to HCCC. The way blocks are set up in Herkimer, this made a slightly longer run before the hill, and a little closer to what I will experience next weekend on the actual run.

It was a lovely morning for a run, cool, breezy, not too humid. I was in fine fettle. As I reached the bottom of the hill I exchanged greetings with a lady who seemed to be waiting for a ride at the end of a driveway. I like these little moments of sociability.

Yesterday at work, when I was still dithering about the run, I had said to a co-worker, “It’s no shame to run a 5K slowly.” He agreed, having previously pointed out that I was not racing, was I? (I am not.) I hope it is no shame to run a practice run slowly either. Oh, I was shuffling. I wanted to stare at my feet, a runner’s trick so you don’t notice the steep, long hill so much. Then I remembered some deer I had seen on that route two weeks ago so looked up and over into the woods. No forest creatures to take my mind off my ills.

I ran this hill regularly when I was training for the Boilermaker so I could laugh at the hills on that run. I didn’t really laugh at the hills that day, although I got a bit of a chuckle out of the silly jokes other runners and I were making. Today I did not feel the least bit inclined to laughter. Just make it around the corner, I told myself. So what, I answered, it just keeps going up after that! Oh, shut up and run.

Of course I reached the top eventually. I’ve never yet given up on that or any other hill, so I’ve got that going for me. Yesterday I had a terrible stitch in my side at that point. When this happens I usually put my arms over my head, stretch and breath deeply as best as I can while still maintaining somewhat of a run. This is not the same thing as putting fists in the air while somebody sings the chorus of “We Are the Champions,” but it is a reminiscent move and I try to take comfort in that. Today it was not necessary. I don’t think the college students are back, so nobody was likely to look our their window and see a crazy old lady running by. I hope.

After my run, I decided I would indeed run the DARE 5K. It will probably be fun and make a decent blog post. Plus, I’ve been telling many people I intend to do it. Why should I give them another reason to laugh and point? Registration fee goes up as of Monday, so I thought I would walk to the police station and drop it off. First I had some things I wanted to get done around the house. Tabby and I set out shortly after eleven.

What a stupid time of day for me to pick! It was hot and sunny. I even went back to the house to get my sunglasses. I should have gone back to the house and gotten my air conditioned truck, but Tabby had seemed to excited for the walk, plus I’ve been putting on a few pounds. Surely if I stuck to the shade it would be OK.

It pretty much was, although there was not nearly enough shade for my liking. I was a little worried the cop on duty might not know much about the DARE run, but it was no problem. By the time we were headed back, though, I felt drenched. I was certain I had sweated off all the sunscreen on my face and hoped my crazy old lady hat would offer sufficient protection. Of course, it also made my head sweat. I kept wanting to take it off when the breeze blew, to try to dry off my hair (I really have too much hair). Tabby kept picking the sunniest spots to stop and sniff, and I kept telling her to come on. At last we made it back home, where we both drank some water and I turned on all the fans.

So now I have proven to myself I will be able to run the DARE, and I have registered to run the DARE. And I’ve written a blog post about both. Can I take the rest of the day off?

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Lame Attempts

Posted on August 11, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So there I was at work, writing a blog post titled “Dithering over the DARE.” I am, of course, a past master of dithering. And then I didn’t like it.

I had intended to go running after work, despite the tremendous humidity, so I thought I might write about that. I even had a title picked out, “Oh, the Humidity.” You know, like that guy said, “Oh, the humanity!” during the Hindenberg disaster. Or is that being flippant about a tragedy? Could be, but I have several times seen and heard “Oh the humanity” used with ironic intent, so I think it is OK. But when I sat down at the computer, nothing.

I thought, “I can’t do ANOTHER post about not having anything to write about.” Then I thought, “Sure I can. It’s Lame Post Friday; I can do whatever I want.”

The reason I could not finish writing the first post is that I felt certain any number of people would tell me to stop being such a whiny baby or to quit rationalizing or some other rude, superior thing the people in my head can always come up with. I tend to spend a lot of time having imaginary conversations with people who criticize everything I do, say or think. In fact, as I write this, I can picture some snotty writer telling me I MUST silence the inner critic or I’ll NEVER be a writer. And somebody else telling me to quit complaining about it.

Huh. I bet neither one of them are published either.

And now I don’t like this post either. You know, I’m just not messing with it today. I’ll say something concrete instead: I was dithering about the DARE 5K because I have not been training as hard as I had intended to. Also, my running partner and cheering section have defected. After work today, I ran up the steep hill that is part of the DARE 5K course, in the steamy humidity. I made it, and the way back down was distinctly pleasant, what with gravity and the breeze picking up.

I think this has been the lamest Friday post yet. I don’t know whether to feel proud or sheepish. I’ll compromise on silly. See you Saturday.

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Hot Dogs and Hot Rods

Posted on July 11, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I drive by The Domes on my way to work and have been noticing a sign for a car show there every Monday night. The Domes, in case you didn’t know, is a small group of businesses located on State Route 5, just outside of Herkimer. A couple of the buildings are dome-shaped. Last night, Steven and I decided to check it out.

We brought our schnoodle Tabby, because we figured a cute little dog was welcome to walk around a parking lot if she behaved herself. We also brought our appetites, because we had seen The Sugar Shack there and thought we could probably get a hot dog.

We ordered our food first. A variety of burgers and sandwiches are available as well as appetizers and desserts. We were intrigued by Deep Fried Mac and Cheese but decided to order two foot long hot dogs, one order of fries, one soda. I don’t eat many fries or drink much soda so figured I could share Steven’s. We sat down at a picnic table and enjoyed the music a DJ was playing.

A couple had a table set up nearby selling knives and garlic, so we walked over and checked that out. I thought about purchasing a jack knife. They are handy to keep in your purse, for little cutting needs that may arise. I decided to wait. We bought some garlic, though. I love garlic.

When our food came, it was delicious. The hot dogs were well-done, the way I like them, and the buns were toasted on the grill. I don’t know why foot-longs taste different from regular hot dogs. Shouldn’t they be the same thing, only longer? Maybe if I had a blind taste test I would find the difference to be psychological. As it is, I find them distinctive and I love them.

We strolled over to chat with the DJ. It was Sal Stokes, a name I remember seeing at other events, most notably the Elks Club car show in Meyers Park in Herkimer last August. A flier for this year’s car show was taped to the table. I made a note of the date: Aug. 4. If I am in town and I am so there.

Sal introduced himself and his wife, Karen. Steven and I introduced ourselves and our dog. Sal said dog lovers were special people. As we walked away he played a song about walking a dog and said it was going out to Cindy Lou Who.

There weren’t a lot of cars there, but we enjoyed the ones we saw. The most striking was a 1938 hearse belonging to Enea Funeral Home. Steven saw a sign on it that said only eleven of that kind were made.

It was a pleasant interlude. The Cruise In (one sign says Car Show, one says Cruise In; I suppose they are same thing) takes place every Monday from 5:30 to 8:30 p.m. Check it out.

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Into the Woods

Posted on July 1, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

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!

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Not a Dead End Run

Posted on June 27, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

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.

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Kick Butt Run

Posted on June 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

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.

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Too Hot to Trot

Posted on June 15, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

It’s All Boilermaker All The Time!

Not really. I mean, I’ve always done a lot of running posts, especially when I am short on Mohawk Valley adventures in a given week. However, I am thinking about the Boilermaker lately in a fairly obsessive fashion. It’s getting closer! Yikes!

So I’m up to running an hour as of Sunday. Then I took Monday and Tuesday off. In my defense, Monday my shoulder was still paining me quite considerably (I think I wrote a post about running Sunday with a terrible muscle spasm) and Tuesday it rained. So you see.

I ran on Wednesday. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t far. I had to meet Steven at 5:30 when he got off work, so we could go to Hummel’s and buy a flag for Flag Day (our flag was ripped; a veteran such as myself cannot fly a torn flag on Flag Day). I thought a half hour run would at least keep me in the game. I had an idea to run by a friend’s house and check her house number, so I could send her a post card.

It quickly became apparent that it was the wrong direction to run in. There was no shade. The sun beat on me mercilessly. I persevered, as I have been known to do. I had no reward, though, because I couldn’t see the house number as I ran by the house. I didn’t want to stop and run in place and stare. Somebody might call a cop.

Later, as I was walking with Tabby to meet Steven, we passed a lady running in the other direction.

“Hot day for it,” I remarked.

“It’s not too bad,” she answered as she loped by like an gazelle. So I felt like I’m the only plodder in Herkimer who is bothered by the late afternoon sun.

Today (Thursday), I thought I would be smarter and wait a bit before I ran. The sun could set a little, and the temperature could cool off. I got some work done around the house that way, which is good, because I knew I might be good for nothing after the run, even if it did cool off.

So I guess I should have waited longer than 45 minutes. Like maybe till October. At least I thought I would sensibly run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. There would be lots of shade. None of this running through residential areas searching for friendly trees.

There was not as much shade as I was hoping for. I don’t know much about plate tectonics, but I think that hill has gotten steeper. I plodded up it, telling myself that every step was one step easier on the Boilermaker. At one point, I thought the up slope was similar to the section of the Boilermaker right before you run through the country club. Of course I could be remembering wrong, but I thought, if I can just keep doing this, maybe the Boilermaker won’t suck too much.

Oh, it took a long time to get to the top, but at last I made it. To continue on up onto campus was to run in the sun. No shade seemed available until I had run all the way up to and around the athletic complex and down the other side. Well, I wanted to go for a long run. I told myself it did not matter how slowly I ran, I just had to keep going.

A car coming in the other direction beeped at me. I gave a vague wave, since I thought it might be a friendly beep. I looked and saw a girl in the passenger seat smiling at me and the driver giving me a thumb’s up. Very nice. I was encouraged.

As I rounded the athletic fields, I realized there was no shade, but a breeze blew over me and made me happy. I saw a motorcycle in the path I was on. Who in the world parked their bike there and where were they? Then I saw three people on one of the softball diamonds, practicing batting, I think. I wanted to holler at them that I was going to borrow their motorcycle, but they were too far away.

The fence by some tennis courts cast as shadow. If only it were a solid fence instead of chain link. This wasn’t going to do me any good! Now, now, I told myself. Maybe it will help a little. It did not. In fact, the sun reflected off the hard surface of the tennis courts and made me even hotter.

As I continued, I found some shade. Not a lot, but I savored what I found. Then I was on the hill back to town. A steep down slope is not my favorite. Too jouncy. But I did what I could with it. A stop at the spring for a refreshing drink. Aaah!

Coming round a corner on my way home, I almost ran into a young man running in the other direction. We saw each other in plenty of time. He even said, “Excuse me.” Nice young man, and running quite a bit faster than I was.

The phrase “All Boilermaker All The Time” came into my head as I walked my cool down with Tabby. The Boilermaker certainly motivated me to run today, at least to run as far as I did. Now that I’m drinking Gator Ade and typing this into the computer, I don’t feel too bad. I didn’t feel it during the run, but maybe I can rock this after all.

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Run Through Adversity

Posted on June 11, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I am writing another post about a run, because that is how I motivated myself to start and to continue. It really does add interest to a run, writing my blog in my head as I go.

I woke up early this morning with a muscle spasm in my shoulder. Oh, it was painful. No position was comfortable and moving around trying to find one was even worse. I managed to fall back asleep a couple of times but was glad to get up, thinking that eventually I could apply ice and/or ibuprofen.

First I applied coffee, of course, and requested sympathy from my husband, Steven, which he generously supplied. I ate a banana with peanut butter so I would not be taking the ibuprofen on an empty stomach. Steven found my ice pack and I kept that on for 20 minutes (I seem to remember reading somewhere you are not supposed to leave ice on for longer).

When Steven left for work shortly before nine, I got on my running clothes and set out. The ibuprofen and ice had not been the miracle cures I was hoping for, but with the Boilermaker looming ever closer, I didn’t feel I should take the day off. I mean, I may not run every day between now and July 8, but a Sunday when I don’t have to work and intend to run for an hour and up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the front way… I thought I would at least try.

It was much nicer running prior to 6 a.m. on Saturday. At 9 a.m. the sun is already fairly high in the sky and it was warm. I thought about how shady it would be running down from HCCC the back way. I thought about a cool drink from the spring. I thought about how much my shoulder was hurting and how my legs were not even daring to complain.

I told myself that it was OK that I couldn’t lift my head comfortably. Going up the hill, it is good to look down at your feet and not think about how much further you have to go. Soon I was on the hill. That sun was hot. I told myself that the Boilermaker might be hot. I saw the spray paint from the DARE 5K: “Have fun!” The sarcasm was not lost on me.

At last, at last, I was almost to the top. Would I continue uphill past the buildings? I thought I would. For one thing, an hour is a long time, even running as slow as I was running. There was no shade to be found. Just keep going. Finally I could cross over to Reservoir Road. It was all downhill from here.

I think running on a gentle down slope is a fine thing. One of the few times when gravity is my friend. A breeze would have been nice, but you can’t have everything. When I got closer to the reservoir it actually seemed a little hotter, definitely more humid. I thought it was supposed to be cooler near the water! I felt a little ill-used about that. Then I was into the woodsy area and it was cooler. Lots of shade, a nice little stream trickling next to me, aaaah. My legs were all, “We got this.”

I decided to run all the way down to German Street and back up Lou Ambers Drive to get to the spring. I was not quite halfway through my hour, but I thought I would be able to make it. I turned left where a sign said “No left turn.” I actually did not see the sign, because of the keeping my head down thing, but I knew it was there. I love being a rebel.

Two men were filling bottles at the spring, but they finished just as I got there. I wasn’t too worried. Most people are nice and will let a thirsty runner sneak in for a drink. Brief refreshment! Then it was onto the parking lot of Salvatore’s. I wished there was a sign that said “Do Not Enter.” A sign did say “customer parking only,” but I am in fact a frequent customer of Salvatore’s, and tempting as it sounded, I did not intend to park. As I went around the side of the building, I saw the sign that said, “No through traffic.” Yes! My rebel status was safe.

On I ran, encouraged by an occasional breeze and/or shade. I found one other “Do Not Enter” sign to enter in spite of, so that made me happy (I know, it takes so little to please some people). My legs informed me that they had burned off the entire banana with peanut butter and would like some more fuel. I told them to start working on the fat in my butt. They wanted a fresh Angus burger, cooked on a grill, with tomato and red onion, on an onion roll. That image kept me going for a good block.

Toward the end of the run, as my legs continued to complain, my shoulder started hurting a little less. It did not want to move, but it was no longer screaming at me. I found I had to concentrate on breathing or I wouldn’t breathe. What was that all about? I was so ready to stop! But I persevered.

My theory has always been, if you can run one hour, you can run two. You just don’t stop. I have run the Boilermaker in less than two hours. I think I’m good.

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