I enjoyed breakfast while talking with my mom. We had a good laugh over her Mother's Day card (of the "Who needs chocolate and flowers when we have alcohol?" sentiment) and she gave me the family news run-down. Unfortunately, it was not the best update (my paternal grandmother has been brought home to be cared for by hospice nurses) but this eventuality was one I had been expecting for a while now.
Even still, I had a bit of a heavy heart all day and the physical aches from Saturday's booth-staffing session at a local festival didn't exactly help. I sat and half-watched TV for a good part of the afternoon while James tuned our cars and watched English Premiere League soccer, but mostly I was thinking about how happy I am that I saw my grandmother when I was in town last, for the St. Louis Half Marathon.
She's a feisty lady, my 90-lb Maw Maw. She's the original over-gesticulating, animated storyteller and each of her daughters and granddaughters have followed suit. She likes her hats, her flowers, her cigarettes, and her cute men. She's an avid fan of kisses and hugs and she has loved us all so well, and I have been so blessed to have her around for so long.
We ran one of our normal routes backwards, so we could cut it short when we needed to. The air held the smells of charcoal, grass, and sun, and I threw a prayer skyward again for the wonderful spring we've had. Last year at this time, Eastern NC was already in its fifth week of 80-90 degree temperatures and the yards were shriveled and brown.
To be honest, I don't really remember the run, except that my legs felt very heavy during the last two miles, which I chalked up to dehydration from Saturday. All in all, though the splits were respectable:
| 1 | 9:05 | ||||||||||
| 2 | 9:07 | ||||||||||
| 3 | 9:05 | ||||||||||
| 4 | 9:27 | ||||||||||
| 5 | 9:28 | ||||||||||
| 6 | 9:30 | ||||||||||
| 7 | 9:45 |
Miles 184-190: 66 minutes running to forget, running to remember.
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