11 Minute Musing

Beautiful, clear late winter day. Quiet Tuesday at work, but I am full of non-specific hope. I am unfocusedly hopeful. Is it the anticipation of spring? Are my female hormones shifting? Do I smell change on the horizon?

Why do I automatically assume a correlation between feeling full of hope and the coming of a change? Is it the cyclical nature of human emotions and feelings to anticipate and hope for change? Is it the quiet that allows the gestation of these thoughts? The birth of this pattern of thinking and this feeling of hope?

Yes, I am having a yoga moment. (Am I having a flow moment?)

"What the world doesn't tell you - because it doesn't know - is that you cannot become successful. You can only be successful. Don't let a mad world tell you that success is anything other than a successful present moment. And what is that? There is a sense of quality in what you do, even the most simple action. Quality implies care and attention, which come with awareness. Quality requires your presence." (Tolle 270, A New Earth)

Applied to running, this would mean taking certain pride and joy in every single step and each and every breath. I don't see how one can run well otherwise.

Miles 57-60

Since James and I planned to come visit my sister in Dallas this weekend, my post-run entry was eschewed for packing, cleaning, cooking, and hitting the sack in preparation for the pre-dawn drive to the airport.

This past week was a beautiful one in Eastern NC. We've hit the between-season lull at work and, if not for previous engagements, I probably would have run more than my shin-split saddled legs could tolerate.

Friday was no different.

I absolutely love spring.

Miles 57-60: 35 minutes of loveliness.

56°F and Rising

Ye olde weatherman predicts Eastern NC is going to see 76° today.


Could it possibly be spring coming already? Or it is a teaser spring?


Either way, today's Friday Freedom Run is going to rock!

Ladies Sushi Night

Sometimes it's a good idea to not go to the gym and instead head to your local sushi restaurant with a couple of your close lady friends, throw back a couple of Cosmos, and get a good ab workout laughing.

What endorphines I missed out on not exercising, I certainly compensated for with the kind of antics only a group of five ladies sitting at a sushi bar can get into.

How's This For Badass?

As previously mentioned, I was introduced to a whole host of ultra-marathon characters in Born to Run and have followed some of them on and off through their social media outlets (i.e. Scott Jurek's Facebook Page. I mean, come on, he's like a Greek god with all that lean muscle and bouncing curl).

Since that book was written, a new crop of stars has come to the forefront, including Anton Krupicka. I stumbled on his blog a few weeks back and I thought, Hey, that's cool, he keeps a daily tally of his runs, too.

The entries may be pithy; however, when your weekly log reads like this, what few words he uses to describe his runs speak clearly of his badass-ness.

So freaking cool.

Miles 52-56: Run Fast

Despite shirking my vow of exercise for three days straight (and debauching myself on homemade Hurricanes in the company of good friends last night) and acting rather like a vampire (hiding from the beautiful sunshine, lazing about in my pajamas for the majority of the yesterday and today) I somehow managed to pull myself together and log 5 miles at a 8:45 average pace.

Huh?

Luckily for my liver, I rather think this run's success was a fluke and I don't think I'll be rationalizing a pattern of future behavior (Saturday night drunkenness = Sunday afternoon kickass run).

The sun, my successful morning and early afternoon re-hydration, and blissfully pain-free shins contributed greatly to just stretch out my legs and really run.

Maybe someday I'll look back and laugh at my 8:45 pace, but I know that for me, in this moment, I ran fast.

And it felt really good.

Miles 48-51: Run Strong

The storm that the Weather Channel showed over Texas and Oklahoma at sunrise this morning rolled its clouds into town late this afternoon; rumor has it we might be getting one more snow shower before the winter is done.

If one to two inches is all we are going to have to deal with before winter retreats, I think I can handle that.

Though I've been away from the computer (and have not run) since last Friday, I have been diligent with continuing to cross-train with both cycling and weightlifting and during tonight's run, I definitely reaped the benefits.

Having already finished his training run for the evening, James let me borrow his Garmin and I was pleasantly surprised to see my first mile chirp out at 8:53 minutes.

The shinsplits flared up around mile 2 and the rain started around mile 3, so I lopped off one and made tonight's run a quick 4 miler (36:55 minutes).

Now, more than ever, I am immensely grateful for my and my husband's health.  It seems every day I'm hearing about a family or friend who is struggling with much greater challenges than my shinsplits.  This may sound weird, but when I'm running (or doing yoga, bicycling, or hiking) and I feel the blood running through my veins and the endorphins throbbing along my nerves, I am both extremely focused on me and yet extremely focused on the world. I am taking energy in from around me and streaming it back forth out into world.

As if making my own little batch of happy energy is my contribution to the world.

(New-agey, I know.)

And now to return to regularly schedule sarcasm, check out what James showed me two days ago: you, too, can harness this power.

Miles 44-47: Triumph on the Treadmill

I am pleased to announce that, when faced with another cold dark rainy day, I returned to the gym to face my nemesis.

And I emerged triumphant.

I dreaded it but - not having run since Sunday on the trail - knew that waiting until this Sunday to run again was not a wise choice. Dialing back miles to help with the shinsplints is one thing, not running out of fear and/or rationalizing is another beast entirely.

I went into the gym with a reasonable goal (run 3-4 miles), a plan (stop when the pain flares up, even if everything else checks good), and some nifty new apparel. Unlike last time, I didn't try to go for broke with 5 miles of speed intervals; I settled in with a manual setting, walked briskly for a minute or so, then moved it on up to a 10 minute/mile pace. By the end of mile 2, I had moved up to a 9:15 minute/mile pace and the shins were still checking in fine. Halfway through mile 4, the left calf started to cramp, so I slowed it down to a brisk walk, ramped up the incline and hiked the last half mile.

I was quite pleased, but not nearly done.

So I punished myself with a weight circuit, Claudia-style.

Miles 44-47: not a typical Friday Freedom Run, but a proud 45 minutes regardless.