Tag Archives: running

Perhaps Not an Epic Post but an Epic Run

I was twenty minutes into my run when I remembered I had not put on any sunscreen, not even my usual Oil of Old Ladies with SPF 15 on my face.  Of course, sunburn has not even been on my radar with our late spring.  Additionally, I usually run before 9 a.m. on a Saturday.  However, today I did not hit the streets till almost 1:30.  Yikes!  Naturally I kept running and tried not to worry about such things.

I had slept in this morning, after a late night at the murder mystery party where I had been plied with gin and champagne (full disclosure:  I did not put up much of a fight).  I had a headache and only myself to blame.  No matter, I told myself briskly.  I had not been running in three days and I was determined not to make in four.  I ran with a bottle of water in one hand.  I seem to remember that this is against the best running advice, but that was something else I couldn’t worry about.  My plan was to sip as I ran and when it was empty, refill it at the spring.  Accordingly, I headed towards Lou Ambers Drive, where the spring is located.

My plan was to run up the minor hill by Valley Health and around the residential area there I call the suburbs.  I guess technically it’s not a suburb, but you know how I like to have names for things.  There is an epic hill in that area as well as a few more of varying slopes and distances.  I did not feel up to anything too strenuous.  I wanted a slow, long, easy run.

Guess where I ended up running. Yes, it was the epic hill.  I sort of automatically headed in that direction and once I was on it just kept going.  Oh, that hill goes on for a long time!  Partway up, I thought it would probably be OK if I just turned around and ran back the way I came.  Then I reminded myself how stubborn I was.  I wasn’t rocking it, but I would not be defeated.  The road is a long loop, it goes up, up, up, then down, then up a short ways to meet up with itself.  I was SO HAPPY when I FINALLY got to the down part!  I noticed that the downhill did not last nearly as long as the uphill before I was headed uphill again.  And there’s a metaphor for life, I told myself.

As I ran, I narrated in my head, thinking my blog post would be a long as my run.  Now that I am typing, I’m not remembering the good parts.  For one reason, my headache is back.  No matter.  It will go away again.  In the meantime, I upped my run time by the recommended 10 percent and I am well on track to being in shape running the Boilermaker 15K.  Anyways, do you really want to hear about my puffing and panting?  Well, if you do, don’t despair.  I will no doubt do more running commentaries soon.  Happy Saturday, everyone!

 

Steve is Bela; I’m Boris

Two of my favorites, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.

I was about to start making a Wuss-out Wednesday post when I realized it was only Tired Tuesday.  However, my sweet husband, Steven, has the next two days off, so it is his Friday.  Therefore, I thought of using this photo.  Other than that, I don’t got much.

I went running earlier, so thought I could make a Running Commentary post.  Unfortunately, I don’t think that is going to work out for me.  I used up all my oomph before I ran, finishing my article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine and typing up a couple of scenes for a murder mystery.  I was pretty impressed with myself that I ran at all.  I was rewarded for my effort by the feeling that my legs actually had muscles in them.  Yay, me.

Incidentally, regarding the headline, I’m not really Boris. For the main reason, I would never call my husband an idiot.  Additionally, my voice is nowhere near as melodious.  Wouldn’t that be a kick, though, if one day I magically woke up with Boris Karloff’s voice?  That would rock.

Is this post turning into a Non-Sequitur Tuesday?  That belongs on Thursday, for heavens’ sake!  I can’t even keep my own features straight! Then again, that’s par for the course on Tired Tuesday.  Let’s hope for better posts as the week wears on!

 

Trying to be Cheerful on a Mid-Week Run

So I went running this morning and started to make a Running Commentary post, but I was just too distracted.  I thought I would feel less distracted as the day wore on, although I confess I don’t know why I thought that.  Never mind, I’ll just start the post and see if it works.

The thermostat said it was 40 degrees out, well within my range for leggings and long sleeves.  Only I couldn’t find a pair of leggings I didn’t mind getting dirty (hey, sometimes you have to plan your wardrobe ahead and you can’t count on being able to do laundry in a timely fashion).  I finally found a pair of spandex tights which I put a pair of shorts over.  What a late ’80’s/early ’90s fashion flashback! I used to LOVE wearing leggings or tights with shorts!  This was back in the day when one covered one’s butt while wearing leggings, unlike our current permissive times.

I only got a house or two away from home when I realized I had forgotten my hat.  That would never do.  I ran back home and pretended that was a warm-up.  I started out the second time running in the opposite direction to what I usually take: toward Meyers Park.  I ran through the park and over to Main Street.  There was a fire on Main Street last night.  I refrained from going down and rubber necking while it was going on, but surely it would not be too inquisitive to run by on the opposite side of the street and view the extent of the damage.

It didn’t look good.  The business on the ground floor seemed untouched, but upstairs windows on one side of the building were black holes.  Windows on the other side appeared to have been knocked out.  Damn!  I continued up Main Street, looking for something more cheerful.  Unfortunately, there are several un-cheerful sights on Herkimer’s Main Street.  I like to keep this blog positive, so I’ll go ahead and skip to the rest of the run.

My head was feeling the cold, despite my toque (it was the knitted watch cap I got in the Army; Steven calls it my toque).  I pictured a warm scarf wrapped around my face and thought that would feel good.  No matter, I told myself.  I could take a hot shower when I got back home.  I looked around at flowers in people’s yard and reminded myself that things WOULD warm up.

I only ran 32 minutes, but I thought that was all right for a mid-week run.  I had things to do that I felt I must recruit my energies for.  In fact, I’m still recruiting them and not getting a whole lot of things done.  But at least I made my blog post.

 

Run Before Lots of Running

I have not done an out of bed, out the door kind of run in a long time.  And it has also been a long time since I made my Running Commentary post so soon after said run.  Well, I have an extremely busy day planned, so getting my blog post done and out of the way is a good idea.

I thought it was supposed to be cold last night and this morning (I confess, I did not pay a great deal of attention to the weather), but our thermostat said 51 degrees.  Excellent running temperature!  It was just past 5:30; the sun was up but the world was not fully lit, so I put on one of my ARMY t-shirts with the reflective decal on the back.  Safety first for Mohawk Valley Girl!

During my last couple of runs, I have been wondering when they were going to stop sucking.  Then I told myself, wait for the weekend.  Running first thing in the morning is DIFFERENT from running after a full day’s work, I thought.  And for once I was right!  Yay me!  It was a great run!

I crossed German Street and ran down the sidewalk towards Main Street.  I had it in mind to run at least up the first part of the hill beyond the “Dead End” sign, up to where part of the road collapsed but pedestrians can still get through.  I saw a car way ahead of me with the emergency flashers on.  Now what was that all about?  Was it broken down?  I remembered hearing how if on the highway you see somebody broken down waiting for help, you should NOT be a good Samaritan and stop, because they might be bad people, decoying you over there to rob you.  I could not imagine anybody doing that in the middle of the village of Herkimer.  Anyways, I didn’t think I was going to run by the car.  Eventually it moved and turned onto Main Street, in the direction I intended to go.  Oh, it was probably somebody delivering papers.  Silly  me and my bad guys with the decoy broken down cars!

I did not see the car again, so I’m not sure where it went, but soon I was on that steep hill and had other things on my mind.  The first part of it wasn’t too bad.  Not fun, of course, but not too bad.  I decided to continue on up, maybe go all the way out Highland Avenue.  That is a good Saturday morning run.  There are no sidewalks, but it is a quiet road.  Steuben Hill, which Highland leads to (oh dear, I think I mean Steuben Hill; how can I possibly check these things?  Google continues to mystify me) is a little busier, but this early in the morning that should not be a problem.

On the second part of the hill, things got a little more difficult.  Just keep going, I told myself.  I remembered an old piece of advice I heard while in the Army, “just look at your feet and shuffle up that hill.”  I made it.   The road continues with some downhill but mostly uphill, but the slope is more doable as you go.  I looked around at all the houses I had not seen since I last ran that hill, sometime in 2016.  Finally I reached the end and was headed back to town.

It was not till I saw the sign reading “Village of Herkimer” that I remembered this run goes outside village limits.  Hello, Herkimer, I thought.  Did you miss me?  I don’t think anybody did.  Houses got closer together.  I encountered a couple of vehicles before I got to the sidewalk.  The truck that went by going downhill seemed to be trying to slow down, but the one on my side of the road (I run left side, facing traffic, as one is supposed to do) was speeding up.  Of course you must trounce on your gas as you go up a hill, or you may not make it, I thought.  I try not to judge.

When I got to Dorf Street and turned onto it, I noticed the “Do Not Enter” sign.  Why did I not remember that sign?  I LOVE to enter where it says “Do Not Enter,” just to be that way.  Oh, I know, they mean vehicles not shuffling middle-aged ladies.  Just let me enjoy the moment, please.

Soon I realized I was quite thirsty.  What to do?  The spring is way on the other end of German Street!  I did not think I could make it there without extending my run well beyond the recommended 10 percent more than last week.  When I got to German I turned in that direction (which is the direction of my house anyways).  I kept looking at my watch, figuring minutes, and turned around before I got to the spring.  I had, as usual, left a bottle of water on my deck for my cool-down run, so I did not suffer from dehydration for long (yes, I am one of those self-dramatizing types that say “dehydrated” for “thirsty.”  I thought you knew that about me).

I felt awesome at the end of my run and quite delighted that it had been a long, challenging run.  I WILL be ready for the Boilermaker 15K!  And now, on to the rest of my challenging Saturday.

 

Thunky Run on Tired Tuesday

I think a Running Commentary post is good on a Tired Tuesday.  At least it gives me a good excuse for being tired.  I definitely planned on running today but was not sure if I would run outside or inside on the mini-tramp.  One minute it was pouring rain, the next minute the sun came out.  I reminded myself of one of my favorite sayings, “I ain’t sugar; I won’t melt.”  As I walked out of my place of employment with my friend Karl, I pointed at the bi-polar sky.

“Look at that, dark clouds over there, bright sunshine over there.”

“Run in that direction,” he advised.

As I got ready to head out the door, I could hear rain on the tin roof of the back porch but could not tell if it was still raining or just blowing off the trees.  When I left the house, it was not raining.  I checked the sky, trying to decide which direction to run in. As I reached German Street, neither direction looked threatening.  Even the road was bare for the moment, so I darted across.  Now what did I do that for, I asked myself. I was just going to have to cross back later, and now I felt obligated to run one of the hills on that side of the street.

I headed towards Main Street, considering my options.  I could, rather that going up the hill on Main, cut over and run on the nice little path over what used to be the Hydraulic Canal.  I started up Main, thinking to do just that.  Then right when it was time for me to cross the street to cut over to the path, a car was coming.  You know how I hate to backtrack.  I said to myself, “Do you want to challenge yourself or not?”  I did not answer but by this time I could see the hill and it really did not look too bad.  Up I went.

And it wasn’t fun.  However, once I start up a hill, I usually make it to the top, and today was no exception.  I thought the rest of the run would probably be easier and congratulated myself on meeting a challenge.  Unfortunately, that was not the case.  I plodded along, feeling heavier and older with each step.

The point is, I kept plodding.  I had not completely decided how long I intended to run for, but I went farther than the minimum I had in mind.  It was in the last quarter of the run that I started to feel not too bad.  This is how it is, I told myself.  Every run sucks until it doesn’t suck any more.  I was at that point tired enough that the thought struck me as profound.  I see now that it isn’t, but it is closely aligned to a thought that has often given me comfort:  Sometimes you just have to feel that way until you don’t feel that way any more.

So on this run, I felt old, tired and thunky.  And then I felt not too bad.  During my cool-down walk, I got rained on.  Then I felt wet and cold.  However, as I predicted in the first paragraph, I didn’t melt.  Now I feel pleased that I ran and moderately pleased with my blog post about it.  Now I’m wondering what I can possibly come up with for Wuss-out Wednesday.

 

Long Run, Long Post

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

I Interrupt my Coffee for a Friday Lame Post

Can I make a post at 4:30 in the morning on Lame Post Friday?  Apparently I can, because here I am, typing.  Will it be any good?  Oh, who cares on Lame Post Friday?  I’ll just keep typing.

I left out one good part of my run yesterday.  Towards the end, I heard a horn beep and I recognized the car and occupant!

Now, I am famous for not recognizing folks who beep at me.  In fact, many years ago when I lived in Potsdam, I completely stopped looking up when I heard a beep.  This is because I was a young, fairly shapely female and it seemed every beep came from, as I put it at the time, “some asshole in a pick-up truck with a baseball hat yelling, ‘Hey, Babe!'”

Oh, don’t start hating at me!  There is nothing wrong with driving a pick-up truck or wearing a baseball hat.  Personally, I miss driving a pick-up truck, and I know many very pleasant people who invariably wear a baseball hat.  This was in the late 1980’s.  I’m just repeating what happened and what I said about it at the time.  These days, I usually look.  I haven’t gotten a “Hey, Babe!” in years.  The last thing that got yelled at me was, “Hey, Grandma!”  I laughed at that.

Getting back to today’s good story, when I looked up yesterday, I immediately recognized the delivery car for the Medicine Shoppe, driven by my friend Rick.  We waved at each other.  Yay, I love Rick!  I love The Medicine Shoppe, too, so you see I have gotten a in shout-out to a local business.  Pretty good for 4:30 in the morning.  I’m going back to drinking coffee now.

 

Sue Me on Sunday

I was going to write about last night’s theatrical triumph at the murder mystery Who Shot JS?.  I even had a title picked out, “We Killed Off Jack.”  Oh well, maybe not the best title, and perhaps I would have come up with something better.  If I would have written that post.  Logging on to WordPress, I thought perhaps I should look forward not back, and write about the audition I just had for The Tempest for LiFT Theatre Company of Little Falls.  I didn’t do very well but feel I may get a part anyways.  Additionally, I ran this morning, so a Sunday Running Commentary is well within the scope of possibility.

But here I sit, typing in a common or garden Wrist to Forehead Sunday post.

I just can’t help it: I am hard-wired to take Sundays off.  I am not exactly programmed to work as hard as I ought the rest of the days, either, but let’s take our week 1/7th at a time, as God intended (I use that expression a lot, “as God intended,” although I do not really purport to understand the mental workings of the Almighty).

The nice thing is, for the rest of the week, I have no place I have to be until Friday.  Go to work, come home.  Run.  Do laundry.  Clean the house.  Make blog posts.  Simple, right?  Well, I still feel I need to take it a little easy on myself on Sunday.  Sue me.  In the meantime, I am over 200 words.  I am in the bra off, pajama bottoms on, wine sipping, crocheting, TV watching portion of the day.  Time to stop typing and get on with the crocheting and TV watching.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

A Triumph, Or Do I Flatter Myself?

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

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

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

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

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

Besides, I wanted to feel bad-ass.

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

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

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

 

Lame Me! I Guess.

I have mentioned this before but I repeat it now for reasons which will become obvious:  in one of the Georgette Heyer Regency Romances I adore, the heroine, during a time of great stress and exertion, has a glass of wine with dinner and feels “fresh as a nosegay.”  I feel sure it will be obvious to even new readers that I am currently sipping a glass of wine in hopes of experiencing a similar rejuvenation.  It seems to be working, which I can only suppose is placebo effect, which I do not scorn.

I got the bottle at Ilion Wine and Spirits.  I had stopped in to The Medicine Shoppe to pick up a prescription, and the two businesses are located very close to each other.  Additionally, I wanted to support Ilion Wine and Spirits, because they are a supporter of Ilion Little Theatre AND they are a sponsor of Who Shot JS? the murder mystery benefit for Herkimer County Historical Society.

This was not my only stop before going home.  I also had to go get certain feminine supplies, a couple of props for the murder mystery, and milk.  I thought with all this running around, it would be OK to not go running.

And then I went running.  Yay, me!  I guess.  It was not a great run or even a particularly good run, but it was a run.  On my cool-down walk, I met up with the doggy Mama of a couple of neighborhood dogs, and we walked a block or so together.  I had not talked to her in a while, so I told her about the sad passing of Spunky.  She shared with me the equally sad news that Nicky, another of my doggy friends, had died over the winter.  I was devastated.  I love Nicky!  I pretty sure I have mentioned stopping to pet him while running.

So now I am trying to finish my Friday Lame Post before Steven gets home.  Thank goodness for Lame Post Friday when I am so tired!  The nosegay effect only lasted for the first couple of paragraphs.  No matter.  I am over 350 words and my self-imposed word-count for a respectable post is 200.  Once again, Yay me!  I guess.