Editor’s Note: I actually drafted this a couple of weeks ago, then promptly forgot about it. It’s yet another post about running, so you may be excused if you have something better to do, like trim your toenails or re-roof your car. But be warned; I’ve now created a new category entitled “Running,” so the dreariness is likely to continue.
Yesterday was like the perfect storm for running, although now that I think about it, storms are tumultuous and chaotic events and yesterday wasn’t so that makes no sense. [rewind]
Conditions yesterday were ideal for a run: overcast, light winds, temperature in the mid-70s. I could see thunderheads on the horizon, but nothing threatening locally as I set out on what is becoming a regular route for my still-infrequent outdoor, non-cycling workouts.
I’m trying to get back into some semblance of running fitness after taking most of the summer off. I find no joy in running in 90°+ temperatures and I can’t work heat-beating morning runs into my routine. But we’ve finally started to have some milder weather in West Texas and I’ve been taking advantage of it after work.
The last few runs have been brutal, as I’m reminded (again) that nothing really gets you in running shape like running. Hours on the elliptical trainer and bicycle will certainly help with the aerobic aspect, but they won’t replicate the ground pounding that’s a natural part of running. Conversely, running makes you run better, and I’ve paid a few dues lately that mean I can go longer, faster, albeit not much of either.
That doesn’t mean it’s easy, by any stretch. I’m challenged both physically and mentally to keep putting one foot in front of the other. One of my mental exercises is to lock in on the chorus of a song to help maintain a steady rhythm. (I don’t listen to music when I run outside; that seems dangerous on the street, and unnatural on the trail.)
Interlude: Have you noticed I used a lot of parenthetical remarks? (Surely you have, being the observant and intelligent reader you are.) I’ll try to do better. (Or not.)
However, I don’t always choose wisely. Yesterday, for example, I covered about a mile with the chorus from Rich Mullins’s Awesome God looping through my head, and while it’s an uplifting mantra, after 50 or 75 repeats, it’s no longer refreshing. My second choice – although “choice” isn’t really accurate as I have no control over what my mind decides to do – was even weirder: Everything Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police.
If there’s one thing Sting know how to do, it’s crafting a catchy hook in the songs he writes, and this is a great example. But the grammar is infuriating, and I found myself arguing with myself about whether either of us should be fixated on a chorus with a line like Everything she do just turns me on. Admittedly, that argument was good for another quarter mile of distraction.
At one point I came across a horseshoe, with nails intact, lying in the middle of the trail. I ran past it and then circled back, picked it up without breaking stride, and hung it on a fence post, intending to grab it at the end of the run and take it home to craft into something…crafty. Unfortunately, when I passed by it again, the thought of carrying even a few extra ounces of iron was more than I could bear, so it’s still hanging there.
Other than a few coveys of quail, I didn’t run across any wildlife, although I could have passed a whole menagerie at times without noticing; some of the trail is pretty rutted and rocky and I need to focus my attention a few feet ahead to minimize the possibility that I might also throw a shoe like that poor horse.
However, I ended the run near the pond at the north part of our neighborhood and decided to cool down by walking back to the house. There was a lone duck on the far side of the pond, and my presence on the sidewalk apparently unnerved him, so he decided to take to the air. Displaying typical duck form, he furiously flapped his way across the entire length of the pond, rising ever so gradually before finally clearing the cattails at the end by a few feet. Then he inexplicably made a u-turn as if he had changed his mind and wanted to return to that small body of water.
Unfortunately, he misjudged his landing and executed a rather dramatic and undignified belly-flop onto the grass a few feet away from the water. (I don’t think I’ve ever seen a duck land anywhere but in the water…now I know why; webbed feet make poor landing gear.) That was followed by much thrashing and contorting as he regained his feet, at which point he looked around as if to say, “you guys, I totally meant to do that!”
Indoor workouts have their place and value, but the price of missing scenes like that is a steep one.