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Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Monday, September 27, 2004
5k
With the remnants of Hurricane Jean beginning to pass through, I hussled the dog out to Franklin Park for a run. It was overcast with a very fine mist. She was ready to go, instinctively picking up on every fork in the trail. When I started to slow down, she would give me a tug. When she spotted a bird, rabbit, or deer, she tried to take off with me in tow, making a couple downhills perilous. The run went by so fast that I wasn't sure I even did anything. I felt great in the end, not overworked. She was ready to go home and romp around with her toys.
Stats
Place: Franklin Park
Time: 28:17
Stats
Place: Franklin Park
Time: 28:17
Today's Inspiration
Here's a nice piece of vintage running. Watch the BBC News footage of Roger Bannister running the first sub-4 minute mile. Incredible!
Saturday, September 25, 2004
6.8 Miles
I bumped into my neighbor Friday night at a neighbor's happy hour before the bluegrass jam session in "downtown" Round Hill. We arranged to go running early this morning. Between that discussion and the alarm clock, I bumped elbows with my neighbors and a few longnecks. When the alarm went off this morning, I managed a little more than five hours of sleep and suffered from mild dehydration (go figure).
My neighbor seemed none the worse for the wear and definitely kicked off his usual pace. I knew a couple things--We were going to run further than I really wanted to and a little faster than I wanted. I also knew that I was in no condition to do either. The countryside was hidden under a thick cloud of fog, disguising the horizon and making it difficult to determine how far we'd run, or how far we had left to go. On the way up Woodgrove, there was a choice--turn left for a 5.8 miles or turn right for 6.8 miles. My neighbor went right. I promptly eased the pace so I could at least finish the run.
It was an eerie run. Fog gives the landscape the haze of a concluded Civil War battle. Running along a gravel road with trees lining either side, I half expected soldiers to come out of the mist limping in our direction. This particular morning I thought if they did come out, they might sympathize with my hangover shuffle.
On our way back home, we passed a yard sale that was nearly ready for the earlybirds who buy all the good stuff before the rest of the world finishes their coffee. I felt a sense of pride knowing that I was finishing my run before the day really even began. When we turned onto our street, I surged up the short, steep hill to my house. I walked ever so slowly through the front door, made friends with my jealous dog, and then went outside to flop on the front porch. While I stretched my legs, I nearly fell back to sleep.
Stats
Place: Allder School Road
Time: 59:53
My neighbor seemed none the worse for the wear and definitely kicked off his usual pace. I knew a couple things--We were going to run further than I really wanted to and a little faster than I wanted. I also knew that I was in no condition to do either. The countryside was hidden under a thick cloud of fog, disguising the horizon and making it difficult to determine how far we'd run, or how far we had left to go. On the way up Woodgrove, there was a choice--turn left for a 5.8 miles or turn right for 6.8 miles. My neighbor went right. I promptly eased the pace so I could at least finish the run.
It was an eerie run. Fog gives the landscape the haze of a concluded Civil War battle. Running along a gravel road with trees lining either side, I half expected soldiers to come out of the mist limping in our direction. This particular morning I thought if they did come out, they might sympathize with my hangover shuffle.
On our way back home, we passed a yard sale that was nearly ready for the earlybirds who buy all the good stuff before the rest of the world finishes their coffee. I felt a sense of pride knowing that I was finishing my run before the day really even began. When we turned onto our street, I surged up the short, steep hill to my house. I walked ever so slowly through the front door, made friends with my jealous dog, and then went outside to flop on the front porch. While I stretched my legs, I nearly fell back to sleep.
Stats
Place: Allder School Road
Time: 59:53
Friday, September 24, 2004
Thursday, September 23, 2004
5k
The weather this week has been unbelievable. Cool air, blue skies, and green, green grass. I went out to Franklin Park again to run the cross country course. Fortunately, there was a recent meet, so the course was well-marked. It felt great and brought back memories of sore legs and breathless finishes from my high school glory days.
Stats
Place: Franklin Park
Time: 28:02
Stats
Place: Franklin Park
Time: 28:02
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
On Falling Off the Wagon...
I don't know when it started, or why, but today I found out. I fell off the running wagon.
I woke up this morning unusually bummed out. I didn't want to get out of bed, out of the shower, or out of the car in the parking lot at work. I didn't want to start the day. I went through a meeting, went through my email, went through the day motion by motion. I was completely unmotivated. Sitting at my desk around 5:30pm, I decided to simply get in the car and go home, not particularly excited about that either. Some small voice, increasingly small of late, told me it was time to go for a run.
On my run, I realized some basic thing that escaped me a long time ago, something that I've been struggling to get back. I wanted to get back on my good foot, but just didn't know how. The best I can figure, my running season got off to a good start: I ran a great 10k with my brother, a decent local 5k, completed a 42 mile hike in one day, and set a personal best on my Taylorstown route. Sometime after that, things fell apart. As days turned into weeks, I could feel my fitness slipping away. Occasionally, I would lace up my shoes and go out for a run, but I just didn't enjoy it. I began making excuses for not running--my knee hurt, I needed new shoes, I needed more sleep, I needed to eat better, or I needed to work less. I stopped talking about running ... and stopped blogging. I fell off the wagon.
How did I get to this point?, I wheezed. All along, the dark, gloomy cloud of guilt hung heavy over my shoulders. With each run missed, I felt less motivated. After I missed a lot of runs, I gradually started giving up. Guilt is a runner's worst enemy. It chipped away at my accomplishments and focused me on my failures. A missed run became more than a missed run. I realized I had it all wrong. Running isn't about looking backward. It's not about that missed run, it's about that next step. It's not about the last race, it's about the next one. Always look forward to the future, and enjoy it. What an important thought. My missed runs don't matter as much as my next completed run. The races I missed don't matter as much as the ones I enter next.
How do I get out of this rut?, I asked myself. Well, I just have to start over ... from the beginning. As fast as I got into running shape, I got out of it. I simply can't do the long runs I was doing a few months ago. This, too, is an important thought. When I started this blog, I recently took up running after a hiatus that lasted a few years. This time, I can still remember the confidence running eight easy miles gave me. If I go out and bust eight miles today, it won't be easy and, more importantly, I might injure myself. So I must start over with just a few short runs a week, until I gradually build myself back to former glory. And so I did today, running one lap around Franklin Park, about 5k.
I thought it important blog this all out because this blog is supposed to be as much about the "lows" as the "highs." Hopefully, some frustrated runner out there will understand this and get out the the rut sooner than I did.
Happy trails.
I woke up this morning unusually bummed out. I didn't want to get out of bed, out of the shower, or out of the car in the parking lot at work. I didn't want to start the day. I went through a meeting, went through my email, went through the day motion by motion. I was completely unmotivated. Sitting at my desk around 5:30pm, I decided to simply get in the car and go home, not particularly excited about that either. Some small voice, increasingly small of late, told me it was time to go for a run.
On my run, I realized some basic thing that escaped me a long time ago, something that I've been struggling to get back. I wanted to get back on my good foot, but just didn't know how. The best I can figure, my running season got off to a good start: I ran a great 10k with my brother, a decent local 5k, completed a 42 mile hike in one day, and set a personal best on my Taylorstown route. Sometime after that, things fell apart. As days turned into weeks, I could feel my fitness slipping away. Occasionally, I would lace up my shoes and go out for a run, but I just didn't enjoy it. I began making excuses for not running--my knee hurt, I needed new shoes, I needed more sleep, I needed to eat better, or I needed to work less. I stopped talking about running ... and stopped blogging. I fell off the wagon.
How did I get to this point?, I wheezed. All along, the dark, gloomy cloud of guilt hung heavy over my shoulders. With each run missed, I felt less motivated. After I missed a lot of runs, I gradually started giving up. Guilt is a runner's worst enemy. It chipped away at my accomplishments and focused me on my failures. A missed run became more than a missed run. I realized I had it all wrong. Running isn't about looking backward. It's not about that missed run, it's about that next step. It's not about the last race, it's about the next one. Always look forward to the future, and enjoy it. What an important thought. My missed runs don't matter as much as my next completed run. The races I missed don't matter as much as the ones I enter next.
How do I get out of this rut?, I asked myself. Well, I just have to start over ... from the beginning. As fast as I got into running shape, I got out of it. I simply can't do the long runs I was doing a few months ago. This, too, is an important thought. When I started this blog, I recently took up running after a hiatus that lasted a few years. This time, I can still remember the confidence running eight easy miles gave me. If I go out and bust eight miles today, it won't be easy and, more importantly, I might injure myself. So I must start over with just a few short runs a week, until I gradually build myself back to former glory. And so I did today, running one lap around Franklin Park, about 5k.
I thought it important blog this all out because this blog is supposed to be as much about the "lows" as the "highs." Hopefully, some frustrated runner out there will understand this and get out the the rut sooner than I did.
Happy trails.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
30 Minutes
Just a short thirty minute run around the newer developments.
Stats
Place: Round Hill
Time: 30:00
Stats
Place: Round Hill
Time: 30:00
Monday, September 06, 2004
30 Minutes
Before laboring away painting the foyer, I stepped outside for a run. The conditions started off ideal--new shoes, overcast skies, cool air, and no traffic. I was running an out and back. All was well going out, the hills felt nicely challenging and the shoes were fantastic. On the way back, I felt the skies misting down on me, but was largely protect by the tree canopy. When I came out into the open, though, the little droplets were a formidable sheet of mist, which made quick work of dousing me. Once I was wet, I didn't have to worry about staying dry, so I enjoyed a walk home, literally soaking in the last days of summer.
Stats
Place: Yatton Rd.
Time: 30:00
Stats
Place: Yatton Rd.
Time: 30:00
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