Tonight I planned to run after work, but my growling stomach and the quickly dropping temperature swayed me from that course pretty quickly. Add on the fact that I have some painting to do (the last of it!) and the relative warmth of my house, the run...didn't materialize. But that's okay. There's always tomorrow.
With no run to write about, what does the title refer to?
This morning.
Honestly, when I close my eyes and think about this morning, I'm still reeling a little bit.
This morning, I drove to work through what can only be described as a painting come to life.
I feel so corny, trying to write about this.
Let me take a deep breath and start.
----
As November draws to a close, the sun is considered "risen" just a few minutes before seven, the hour at which work starts for me. It is also the time at which I am often pulling into the parking lot.
Last night we had a hard freeze in Eastern North Carolina and it was apparent as soon as I left the house this morning. The frost glittered under a sky that had just begun to turn the palest of pinks.
As I drove, the sun slowly crept into view. Everything was frosted over. Grass, roofs, cars, trees. The very air was frosted, hung heavy with a mist that wasn't quite fog.
A third of the way through my drive, I am now on Highway 111 heading south. There is a field on the left, framed by trees, where the sun rises. Once or twice I have seen a lone deer there; this morning, no animals were about, but my breath caught in my throat.
Everything, everywhere, all cast in pearly luminescence. Soft pinks, the faintest of peaches, all kissed by lilac.
Crossing the Broadhurst Bridge over the Neuse River, I looked left, to the east, and right, to the west, and almost drove into the bridge wall. In the east, the colors had deepened; in the west, the full moon hung between waves of violet and indigo.
Continuing down Broadhurst, my head swung from left to right and back, soaking up the colors. The colors were everywhere. With the whole world frosted over, the only color was in the sky, and what mighty colors they were.
I turned right onto the road which houses the place I work and now I alternated looking through my windshield and in my rear-view mirror. As I watched, the sky's palette slowly shifted and the colors morphed and brightened. I pulled into the parking lot and just sat and swallowed against the lump in my throat.
What a beautiful world we live in.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Word.
"A good life is when you assume nothing, do more, need less, smile often, dream big, laugh a lot and realize how blessed you are."
Someone posted this on Facebook. I then Googled it to see who might have said it and came up with everything from Unknown to Paris Hilton to George Clooney to Morgan Freeman.
Oh, interwebs.
Went for a run after work in the light drizzle. 2012's weather continues to be strange, with tonight's temperatures hovering in the low 50s. Lovely weather for an easy 4.5 miles. If not for all of the lights and decorations already up, I wouldn't believe we're already in the the countdown to Christmas.
Yowzers.
Someone posted this on Facebook. I then Googled it to see who might have said it and came up with everything from Unknown to Paris Hilton to George Clooney to Morgan Freeman.
Oh, interwebs.
Went for a run after work in the light drizzle. 2012's weather continues to be strange, with tonight's temperatures hovering in the low 50s. Lovely weather for an easy 4.5 miles. If not for all of the lights and decorations already up, I wouldn't believe we're already in the the countdown to Christmas.
Yowzers.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Thankful
For beautiful days in new places.
For wonderful coffee for smiling faces.
For new ventures, bold and bright.
And certainly, last but not least, for cuddly kitties all through the night.
I spent Thanksgiving weekend down in Athens with James, Specs, and Sweetpea. The original plan was to head to St. Louis, where my family was hosting my mother's side for Thanksgiving dinner, but life had other ideas this year.
James showed me a wonderful time down in Georgia, complete with hiking in Watson Mill Bridge State Park on Thanksgiving Day; running the North Oconee River Greenway Friday morning followed by dining at Big City Bread for lunch and Farm 255 for dinner; and avoiding the University of Georgia football madness at the movie theater seeing Skyfall Saturday.
It was a nice break from all of the house prepping I've been doing of late.
Speaking of which, I'm getting new carpet for one of the bedrooms tomorrow, so it's time to go wrangle the old up.
Best wishes to all and safe travels to those still returning home.
 |
| Watson Mill Bridge, est. 1886 |
For new ventures, bold and bright.
And certainly, last but not least, for cuddly kitties all through the night.
I spent Thanksgiving weekend down in Athens with James, Specs, and Sweetpea. The original plan was to head to St. Louis, where my family was hosting my mother's side for Thanksgiving dinner, but life had other ideas this year.
James showed me a wonderful time down in Georgia, complete with hiking in Watson Mill Bridge State Park on Thanksgiving Day; running the North Oconee River Greenway Friday morning followed by dining at Big City Bread for lunch and Farm 255 for dinner; and avoiding the University of Georgia football madness at the movie theater seeing Skyfall Saturday.
It was a nice break from all of the house prepping I've been doing of late.
Speaking of which, I'm getting new carpet for one of the bedrooms tomorrow, so it's time to go wrangle the old up.
Best wishes to all and safe travels to those still returning home.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Tunes and Pics
I downloaded Pearl and the Beard's "Killing the Darlings" a few months ago after listening to "Sweetness" on Melissa's blog, but have only really been digging their beats and harmonies as of late.
These folks have got sass:
And let's face it, they know how to have fun.
Their lyrics aren't bad either. "Sweetness, we see the exact same sunrise on different sides of the morn."
----
On the way to check on my friend's dog, I was graced with this sunset.
It's nice to be reminded that just because we're barreling full on to winter and the colorful leaves will soon be gone that not all of the color will disappear.
These folks have got sass:
And let's face it, they know how to have fun.
Their lyrics aren't bad either. "Sweetness, we see the exact same sunrise on different sides of the morn."
----
On the way to check on my friend's dog, I was graced with this sunset.
It's nice to be reminded that just because we're barreling full on to winter and the colorful leaves will soon be gone that not all of the color will disappear.
200th post nearly 2 years later
About this time two years ago, I was riding a plane that was getting ready to land in Rome. Shortly thereafter, I wrote a post about my experience walking for a week in Italy; hatched a grandiose plan that I had fun failing miserably at; and then set some more realistic goals and had even more fun achieving them.
This morning (or rather, the middle of the night) I roused myself to drive some friends to the airport for a week-long trip of their own. They, wisely, are going west to the warm waters of Hawaii. Strangely enough, after returning home from Raleigh, I wasn't tired, despite yesterday evening's run and five hours of sleep.
So I went ahead and ran some more this morning in the slumbering city streets. But not before going back by the magnificent tree in my neighborhood. Last night, even in the pale light of the street lamp, this one was a beauty.
Running this morning, I was treated to similar sights. Graceful Japanese Maples all aflame; Bradford pears turning themselves inside out with color; a Weeping Cherry tree, so sad to lose its golden leaves.
Everywhere, a carpet of color.
This morning (or rather, the middle of the night) I roused myself to drive some friends to the airport for a week-long trip of their own. They, wisely, are going west to the warm waters of Hawaii. Strangely enough, after returning home from Raleigh, I wasn't tired, despite yesterday evening's run and five hours of sleep.
So I went ahead and ran some more this morning in the slumbering city streets. But not before going back by the magnificent tree in my neighborhood. Last night, even in the pale light of the street lamp, this one was a beauty.
Running this morning, I was treated to similar sights. Graceful Japanese Maples all aflame; Bradford pears turning themselves inside out with color; a Weeping Cherry tree, so sad to lose its golden leaves.
Everywhere, a carpet of color.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
First Post-Race Run
 |
| (You know you're jealous of the shirt.) |
Hi, y'all!
Tonight was my first run post-Richmond, yes, cheesily in the race shirt. But, like many other things with that race, it, too, was awesome and I had to show it off.
Monday I did what is quickly becoming my favorite day-after-long-run yoga routine - thirty minutes with Clara stretching my hamstrings, hip flexors, and calves. And, man, did my hips need it. Aside from the joint stiffness, they were the only muscles that truly ached. Yesterday's cold rain put a stop to my plans to get out so by tonight, I was completely rested up and my feet were itching to go.
Despite a full night of errands and appointments before me, I went ahead and headed out for a quick run right after work. I even managed to get a mile in before the twilight speedily faded to full night.
The run was amazing and for once my sensation of moving quickly matched fairly well to my clocked speed. (Average moving pace of 8:45 - traffic this early in the evening makes for some waiting at the road crossings!) It was cold enough to warrant a hat but no fleece hoodie or gloves. It was breezy but quiet.
And strangely, I did not see any dogs.
In fact, not only did I not see any dogs, but I saw four cats. Four feline creatures standing sentinel in the middle of the street and almost equal half mile intervals. Four and a half, if you count the teeny tiny kitten that rolled around in the street until my approaching feet startled it like a shot.
Curiouser and curiouser....
It's hard to believe that Thanksgiving is a week from tomorrow; 2012 where did you go?
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Richmond Half Marathon Recap
It is 8:13 on a Saturday night and I. am. wore. out.
But it's a special Saturday night, 11/10/12, the third anniversary of my first half marathon - a race in Richmond, VA that I marked with running the same half marathon.
(What a difference three years makes.)
As I write, I am fed up on meat and beer from the local restaurant the Village Steakhouse, my calves are being hugged by my Zensah compression sleeves, and I've got the first of at least two glasses of water next to my left hand to drink before I lay down.
(What one learns in three years.)
Today has been a whirlwind day of perfect awesomeness.
(Even the weather gods smiled kindly three years later.)
Ladies and gentleman, the course:
This morning was the usual pre-race flurry. Groggily making coffee, choking down a bagel, lacing up and pinning on the bib number. Downtown, at the starting area, we made a last minute pit stop and checked a bag for me to pick up for all of us before I ripped off the top to a Gu and headed towards my starting corral.
Richmond has been labelled "America's Friendliest Marathon" and I have to say, that even from the start, you could feel this vibe. Everyone was happy, the air full of excited chatter, and the volunteers were keeping things running smoothly, the half marathon starting at 7:30 sharp and my B Wave starting exactly 2 minutes later.
The memories flooded in as soon as I started running that straightaway down Broad. Three years ago, the skies were a churning grey, the air heavy with mist, and the winds whipping up bands of spitting rain; runners flung shirts and garbage bags left and right as they warmed up in the first mile. This morning, the sun shone bright, the skies were calm, and no one had need of extra layers. I was also running with a group paced 20 minutes faster and these people knew what they were doing. I quickly honed in on a woman in a pink shirt and told myself that I would keep her in my sights.
Taking the first right onto Boulevard, we crested a hill over a bridge and then I powered down. Into mile 4, you run down a beautiful split parkway and get to see your fellow runners doubling back. Three years ago, James and I saw my cousin Bridgette as she sped along with some Richmond friends.
Just before heading into Bryan Park, I remember seeing a beautiful pond, complete with a fountain, and a fading willow tree. Then we hit the Party Zone and the crowd really ramped it up.
While three years ago running through Bryan Park was a chore, this year I welcomed the rolling hills and change of scenery. I kept powering down the back side of the hills to make up time where I could and tore open my second Gu as I left the park.
Miles 9-13 were an absolute treat. Virtually flat and full of spectators, the last miles were some of my most lucid. It became apparent to me at Mile 10, which I crossed at about 1:25, that a 1:50 finish was not highly likely. But, if I busted my ass, I figured I could pull out a sub-1:53. I was very aware of my pink-shirted rabbit that I was chasing and at mile 11, I threw on my burners and ran past her.
(I was also acutely aware of the Inclusive Racing teams, especially Team Heather and Team Keith, which ran beside me almost the whole time. Those teams were badass.)
It was especially eerie, remember my death shuffle three years ago. A quarter of a mile slog, a few choked tears, some walking and repeat. Not this year. This year, my last 5K was my fasted 5K.
How about those splits?!?!
A big kudos to the race planners for adding a truly spectacular downhill finish (different from three years ago). Gravity enabled a whole new level of sprinting. :-)
It wasn't 1:50. But 1:52:28 is not too shabby.
But it's a special Saturday night, 11/10/12, the third anniversary of my first half marathon - a race in Richmond, VA that I marked with running the same half marathon.
(What a difference three years makes.)
As I write, I am fed up on meat and beer from the local restaurant the Village Steakhouse, my calves are being hugged by my Zensah compression sleeves, and I've got the first of at least two glasses of water next to my left hand to drink before I lay down.
(What one learns in three years.)
Today has been a whirlwind day of perfect awesomeness.
(Even the weather gods smiled kindly three years later.)
Ladies and gentleman, the course:
This morning was the usual pre-race flurry. Groggily making coffee, choking down a bagel, lacing up and pinning on the bib number. Downtown, at the starting area, we made a last minute pit stop and checked a bag for me to pick up for all of us before I ripped off the top to a Gu and headed towards my starting corral.
Richmond has been labelled "America's Friendliest Marathon" and I have to say, that even from the start, you could feel this vibe. Everyone was happy, the air full of excited chatter, and the volunteers were keeping things running smoothly, the half marathon starting at 7:30 sharp and my B Wave starting exactly 2 minutes later.
The memories flooded in as soon as I started running that straightaway down Broad. Three years ago, the skies were a churning grey, the air heavy with mist, and the winds whipping up bands of spitting rain; runners flung shirts and garbage bags left and right as they warmed up in the first mile. This morning, the sun shone bright, the skies were calm, and no one had need of extra layers. I was also running with a group paced 20 minutes faster and these people knew what they were doing. I quickly honed in on a woman in a pink shirt and told myself that I would keep her in my sights.
Taking the first right onto Boulevard, we crested a hill over a bridge and then I powered down. Into mile 4, you run down a beautiful split parkway and get to see your fellow runners doubling back. Three years ago, James and I saw my cousin Bridgette as she sped along with some Richmond friends.
Just before heading into Bryan Park, I remember seeing a beautiful pond, complete with a fountain, and a fading willow tree. Then we hit the Party Zone and the crowd really ramped it up.
While three years ago running through Bryan Park was a chore, this year I welcomed the rolling hills and change of scenery. I kept powering down the back side of the hills to make up time where I could and tore open my second Gu as I left the park.
Miles 9-13 were an absolute treat. Virtually flat and full of spectators, the last miles were some of my most lucid. It became apparent to me at Mile 10, which I crossed at about 1:25, that a 1:50 finish was not highly likely. But, if I busted my ass, I figured I could pull out a sub-1:53. I was very aware of my pink-shirted rabbit that I was chasing and at mile 11, I threw on my burners and ran past her.
(I was also acutely aware of the Inclusive Racing teams, especially Team Heather and Team Keith, which ran beside me almost the whole time. Those teams were badass.)
It was especially eerie, remember my death shuffle three years ago. A quarter of a mile slog, a few choked tears, some walking and repeat. Not this year. This year, my last 5K was my fasted 5K.
How about those splits?!?!
A big kudos to the race planners for adding a truly spectacular downhill finish (different from three years ago). Gravity enabled a whole new level of sprinting. :-)
It wasn't 1:50. But 1:52:28 is not too shabby.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Sir Roger Bannister on Running
"We run, not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves....the more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, 'You must not run faster than this, or jump higher than that.' The human spirit is indomitable"
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Starlit
This whole week has been full on Autumn in North Carolina, complete with frosts, chilly winds, and the last of the crop harvesting. Alas, the cotton has finally been picked, the stray poof littering the side of the street.
For some reason, I found the site of cotton just before picking to be beautifully, gloriously comforting.
At any rate, this morning, when I woke, tipping the cats out of my slumbering lap, I was not thinking about beautiful cotton, I was panicking at the tickle at the back of my throat.
I looked in the mirror after my shower and gave myself a stern talking to:
This is not the beginning of a sinus infection, you will drink tea and green juice today and you will not wake up Saturday morning feeling like crap.
On Sunday, I had planned to do yoga on Monday and Wednesday and do some easy runs Tuesday and Thursday. In a flash, I started talking about reneging on this plan. The air is dry. I will encourage the sinus bloom if I run in dry air. All the while, I talked about my fears at work, daring the slightly dazed, sleepy mood to turn into something more heart-breaking.
I haven't been sick since I returned from Colorado and I sure didn't expect a fall training to end with feeling under the weather.
Luckily, the cups of tea and good vibes seemed to have worked to, at the very least, ease my mind and after getting out of the dentist, I laced up anyways and did The Usual Four.
I hadn't remembered how dark the adjoining subdivision gets in the early November nights and I took care to shorten my stride as I felt my way along the pavement. light and funk music spilled from someone's garage; the smell of burning wood wound between the houses.
The stars were just beginning to come out as I finished in the hush.
At 7:32 am on Saturday, I'll be bouncing from foot to foot amidst a different kind of hush.
I wish I may, I wish I might.
For some reason, I found the site of cotton just before picking to be beautifully, gloriously comforting.
At any rate, this morning, when I woke, tipping the cats out of my slumbering lap, I was not thinking about beautiful cotton, I was panicking at the tickle at the back of my throat.
I looked in the mirror after my shower and gave myself a stern talking to:
This is not the beginning of a sinus infection, you will drink tea and green juice today and you will not wake up Saturday morning feeling like crap.
On Sunday, I had planned to do yoga on Monday and Wednesday and do some easy runs Tuesday and Thursday. In a flash, I started talking about reneging on this plan. The air is dry. I will encourage the sinus bloom if I run in dry air. All the while, I talked about my fears at work, daring the slightly dazed, sleepy mood to turn into something more heart-breaking.
I haven't been sick since I returned from Colorado and I sure didn't expect a fall training to end with feeling under the weather.
Luckily, the cups of tea and good vibes seemed to have worked to, at the very least, ease my mind and after getting out of the dentist, I laced up anyways and did The Usual Four.
I hadn't remembered how dark the adjoining subdivision gets in the early November nights and I took care to shorten my stride as I felt my way along the pavement. light and funk music spilled from someone's garage; the smell of burning wood wound between the houses.
The stars were just beginning to come out as I finished in the hush.
At 7:32 am on Saturday, I'll be bouncing from foot to foot amidst a different kind of hush.
I wish I may, I wish I might.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Thoughts before the Tenth
Hard to believe that in less than a week, on the third anniversary of my first, I will run my tenth half marathon in Richmond, Virginia.
This morning I ran my last LSD before the race and it was a beautiful, sun-dappled experience. With Daylight Savings Time ending, I was up with the sun (as were the cats) and ready to go. I went through City of Goldsboro again, admiring the homes and yards in fall, feeling my cheeks pink up with the cold.
I thought a lot about has much has changed over the past three years - especially with regards to my running.
I'm not even sure I ran a LSD the weekend before my first half marathon. My training was extremely spotty that fall. I know I went into that first race in Richmond having never ran more than 10 miles at a single go. And I remember being in a lot of pain both during and after running. I remember a lot of frustration. In retrospect, I came into racing a bit unwillingly. Running had always been a mental and physical release for me. If I got it from running two miles, great. I needed four? Okay. James and Margaret were both more driven by competition. But I found that racing different courses, seeing different things, being a part of something with a bunch of other folks, now that was fun.
I remember how nervous I was; my shin had been giving me a lot of problems (in retrospect, my "training" was a recipe for a shin-splint disaster). I remember watching one runner roll his ankle not even a mile in and another drop his iPod. I remember James having to stop and pee around Mile 3 and him telling me to go on, he would catch up; then, when he did, telling me how many other girls with black capris, long-sleeved white tech shirts, and ponytails there were in the sea of runners.
I remember running through the park around miles 6-9, the unexpected hills and extremely slanted pavement. And I remember Mile 10 and the slow death shuffle that my running became during that last 5K.
I remember the way my body revolted after the race. I couldn't eat. Couldn't nap. My legs, my stomach, my head all felt like lead.
It's hard to believe now that running 10+ miles on a Sunday morning - rain or shine, hot or cold - is the thing that I look forward to most in my week.
It's taken until this year, 2012, to really feel that way. I've kind of come full circle, too. LSD runs are a balm for my weary soul. If I can just get my feet moving, I know that the rest of my run, my day, will be better.
This morning I ran my last LSD before the race and it was a beautiful, sun-dappled experience. With Daylight Savings Time ending, I was up with the sun (as were the cats) and ready to go. I went through City of Goldsboro again, admiring the homes and yards in fall, feeling my cheeks pink up with the cold.
I thought a lot about has much has changed over the past three years - especially with regards to my running.
I'm not even sure I ran a LSD the weekend before my first half marathon. My training was extremely spotty that fall. I know I went into that first race in Richmond having never ran more than 10 miles at a single go. And I remember being in a lot of pain both during and after running. I remember a lot of frustration. In retrospect, I came into racing a bit unwillingly. Running had always been a mental and physical release for me. If I got it from running two miles, great. I needed four? Okay. James and Margaret were both more driven by competition. But I found that racing different courses, seeing different things, being a part of something with a bunch of other folks, now that was fun.
I remember how nervous I was; my shin had been giving me a lot of problems (in retrospect, my "training" was a recipe for a shin-splint disaster). I remember watching one runner roll his ankle not even a mile in and another drop his iPod. I remember James having to stop and pee around Mile 3 and him telling me to go on, he would catch up; then, when he did, telling me how many other girls with black capris, long-sleeved white tech shirts, and ponytails there were in the sea of runners.
I remember running through the park around miles 6-9, the unexpected hills and extremely slanted pavement. And I remember Mile 10 and the slow death shuffle that my running became during that last 5K.
I remember the way my body revolted after the race. I couldn't eat. Couldn't nap. My legs, my stomach, my head all felt like lead.
It's hard to believe now that running 10+ miles on a Sunday morning - rain or shine, hot or cold - is the thing that I look forward to most in my week.
It's taken until this year, 2012, to really feel that way. I've kind of come full circle, too. LSD runs are a balm for my weary soul. If I can just get my feet moving, I know that the rest of my run, my day, will be better.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Sunrise, Sunset
 |
| Sunrise at work last week |
 |
| Sunset on the way home from work today |
With Daylight Savings Time ending on Sunday morning, I have been feeling particularly wistful towards the beginning and ending of each day as of late. Soon, the sun will not rise until after I am already at work, will have already set before I leave.
Today, driving home I saw the sun fight through densely pillowed clouds, streaming rays of light on fields of bursting cotton and baled hay. It has been such a joy to drive these country roads to and from work these past four years.
Tonight I ran a 5 mile tempo run, with my middle three miles at 8:38, 8:35, and 8:32. It was chilly and quiet and I could feel my strength as I ran. I am so thankful to have remained injury free in preparation for this race and happy to be stronger and leaner than I have ever been.
I am so going to kick Richmond's ass next weekend.
Why? Because I have star power in me! Watch this:
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