Mainely Running
Join me as I train in Maine and race all over the world in pursuit of my goal to run a marathon on all 7 continents
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Rain
This morning I had a great run in the rain. I really pushed myself for the first 4.5 miles (38 minutes) and then did 6 hill repeats for a total of 6.6 miles in 56 minutes. I'm struggling to unravel the mystery of why some days I want to push it like this, and others I just want to trot along at a comfortable pace. You would think that on a cold, rainy day I wouldn't feel great. Maybe it's something about overcoming my desire to stay inside and elliptical instead, and facing the elements. Once I'm out there I love the feeling of rain on my skin. Maybe it's just that I didn't go to the gym last night. We had friends over for dinner and pumpkin carving instead. I always think that more will get me fitter and skinnier. Maybe that just makes me tired. Whatever the cause was, I'll accept it gratefully. I never mind a day when I have the drive to conquer to world.
Monday, October 19, 2009
sole food
There are certain things that fuel my soul, which in turn fuels my soles and my running. On Columbus day weekend I did a trail run in Maine. The leaves were bright, the sun was shining, the air smelled of earth and of the sea, and there were people I loved on the trails with me. I finished the run and just sat on the shore looking out at the ocean.
Then Friday morning I woke up expecting a run in the cold rain. Instead it was snowing. Most people were not happy about snow in October, but I love snow. There is something about running with snowflakes on your lashes that makes you smile.
It takes something huge and beautiful, or unexpected, to make me stop and remember to breathe and appreciate what a gift it is to be able to run.
Then Friday morning I woke up expecting a run in the cold rain. Instead it was snowing. Most people were not happy about snow in October, but I love snow. There is something about running with snowflakes on your lashes that makes you smile.
It takes something huge and beautiful, or unexpected, to make me stop and remember to breathe and appreciate what a gift it is to be able to run.
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