James and I woke to sunny blue skies this morning; one major perk of living in North Carolina is the endless supply of sun. Even though it was a brisk 27°F, there is something endlessly uplifting about being drenched in light on a January Sunday.
Sunday morning long runs have been our ritual for about a year and a half now. The locals go to church; James and I go running. It is quite possibly the only place in running where we equal each other out. Where James has incredible talent and intense competitive drive, I have a calm outlook and an internal pacemaker. My natural pace is somewhere around a 9:30/mile; though I've gotten (slightly) faster in the last year on my short runs this pace has almost always dictated my races - be it a 5K, 10K, or half marathon. For long runs, especially when we get 8 miles and above, keeping an even pace and finishing the whole thing is far more important than how fast we run. I keep him on track, he keeps me motivated.
Today's run was quieter than normal. We passed no other walkers or runners on our three-neighborhood loop.
Miles 8-12.5: 53 minutes where our feet pattered out a near-silent benediction.
While we were at home in Michigan we saw some runners that were out in the 15°F with crazy snow coming down. That's dedication! Or craziness.
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