It's Christmas break and this morning I was arguing with myself about getting out of bed to get my run in. It had rained overnight and was still looking pretty gray and wet outside. I went back and forth for a while--I had to be in Little Rock at 10 for a haircut--but I finally got out there.
The rain was gone but not the fog and mist. It was pretty warm, especially for a wet December morning, and it felt great to be out there once I got moving! My iphone (replaced since then!) had been acting up, so I was running to my favorite Pandora station.
For a long time I've been trying to remind/teach myself that happiness is not a constant, but something that comes in fits and starts that you have to grab and hold onto. I think it's like butter--you get a blob of it at once but you have to spread it out. You can't expect life to be one long stream of melted butter, and you can't just sit by the butter dish scooping it off. I was running down into Stonewall when Ani DiFranco started singing "As Is." There's something about that song (the live version on pandora, but a few minutes ago I found an itunes special version that is just as good--the cd version is not), about the way she's working that guitar, about her voice and the lyrics and the depth--that has tugged at me for a while now. And misty runs--those tug at me, too. When I'm running and it's foggy and now and then a microdrop of water will pool on my eye for a fraction of a second...So I was a mile and a half into a perfect morning run and then this song came on and it opened up a brief but huge chasm of happiness. In my chest, maybe? I remembered to open myself to it and I smiled big and just ran on into it.
Later on in the run I was thinking about the first marathon, about the picture Julann posted and titled "Elation," about that feeling, and I was thinking that I would not trade that feeling, about how deep that feeling went, about how thankful I am that I get to do something that moves me to tears (the happy kind, not the oh my god why are these kids acting like this kind, because I get to do that, too.) I hope to feel that again. I know it will be different, but I hope it will be deep in a different way, like all chasms of happiness are.
Maybe happiness is sometimes like a stream, smooth and gentle, running over you. Maybe that's how it was today having lunch at Kristin's. I realized how much I miss down time with her. But sometimes it is deep and unexpected and seemingly unrelated to anything and you have to plunge into it without asking questions.
I'm glad running takes me outside--otherwise I wouldn't have seen this morning the wet brown branches cool against the gray sky, wouldn't have felt damp and happy with that delicious used feeling in my legs. I'll take it, as is, as Ani is singing right now.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
I stalled again this morning. It's nice to be able to do that in winter without having to worry about bursting into flames because of the late start. It also means I don't finish up until almost noon. When I was driving through Burns Park this morning I saw mist rising from the river, but I by the time I got parked and started it was gone. Maybe next week I'll get out there sooner!
As I was crossing the big dam bridge I looked over the edge at the supports for the new approach they are building. I have a weird fear of heights--weird in that it only shows itself at certain times. I have never had any problem running across the bridge, but as I looked at the height of the supports I felt a little dizzy and had to look away. I think the new approach is a great idea, though, and look forward to seeing it finished. I know there are a lot of people around here who don't understand the value of putting money into stuff like that, but it's one of the things that makes our community better. For everyone, too, not just runners and cyclists. There were as many families out walking this morning as there were athletes running and biking.
I hoped that there would be more deer in two rivers park this morning, but there weren't. Maybe because of the late start? There were plenty of walkers on the trail this morning, especially in two rivers. I was curious as I left the park before my turnaround about the gardens--I had no idea there was a Pulaski County community garden! It looks great. It reminded me, though, that I have a garden in my back yard that really needs to be cared for. Incentive to get to work on that asap!
On the way back there was a train coming along the trail. I have never seen one along there, and took the earphones out to listen. As the engine passed I waved and the passenger guy waved back at me. I heard them toot the horn a little later, maybe for the kid walking with her mom a little ways back.
I left to music out and listened to the birds and the people for the rest of the run. It felt strong and I finished it at a decent pace for me. Next week is just 10 miles before building up some more. The next three weeks will help me decide whether I'm going to register for DC's Rock and Roll in March after Little Rock. It's a crazy idea but I'm excited about the possibility.
No deep thoughts today, really, but I do hope to run through two rivers park some time when it's frozen. I bet it's a neat sight, all that swampy green life frozen over.
As I was crossing the big dam bridge I looked over the edge at the supports for the new approach they are building. I have a weird fear of heights--weird in that it only shows itself at certain times. I have never had any problem running across the bridge, but as I looked at the height of the supports I felt a little dizzy and had to look away. I think the new approach is a great idea, though, and look forward to seeing it finished. I know there are a lot of people around here who don't understand the value of putting money into stuff like that, but it's one of the things that makes our community better. For everyone, too, not just runners and cyclists. There were as many families out walking this morning as there were athletes running and biking.
I hoped that there would be more deer in two rivers park this morning, but there weren't. Maybe because of the late start? There were plenty of walkers on the trail this morning, especially in two rivers. I was curious as I left the park before my turnaround about the gardens--I had no idea there was a Pulaski County community garden! It looks great. It reminded me, though, that I have a garden in my back yard that really needs to be cared for. Incentive to get to work on that asap!
On the way back there was a train coming along the trail. I have never seen one along there, and took the earphones out to listen. As the engine passed I waved and the passenger guy waved back at me. I heard them toot the horn a little later, maybe for the kid walking with her mom a little ways back.
I left to music out and listened to the birds and the people for the rest of the run. It felt strong and I finished it at a decent pace for me. Next week is just 10 miles before building up some more. The next three weeks will help me decide whether I'm going to register for DC's Rock and Roll in March after Little Rock. It's a crazy idea but I'm excited about the possibility.
No deep thoughts today, really, but I do hope to run through two rivers park some time when it's frozen. I bet it's a neat sight, all that swampy green life frozen over.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The things we see.
Yesterday as I was coming out of some trees into a big open field, I saw three deer on my left. I startled a little as I always do when I see deer, and waited for them to bound off. But they didn't. I guess they see so many people that they aren't that scared anymore. Two were older and one was younger. The younger one stepped over the path and stopped just on the edge of it. I went around it--I could have touched it, I was so close. He was calm, but I was keeping an eye on the bigger two to make sure they didn't decide I was a threat. I went on, looking back at them a few times.
I had 12 miles scheduled yesterday. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, and if it didn't go well I was ready to rethink my plan for the marathon in March. I was sick last week, totally failed at a 7 miler, and wasn't feeling strong. I got up and got dressed to go to the river, but I dawdled. It was cold so I decided I needed my jacket, which I had to go back and get. And my wrist band. And some chapstick. I told myself I was wasting time and it wasn't helping.
At the car by the trail, I talked myself out of wearing the jacket. It was cold, still under 30 degrees, but my mind told me I would be happier without the jacket. It was freezing for the first few miles--my toes and my lower legs felt numb, but I warmed up and had a comfortable run.
I had parked at the dog park at burns park for the first time in a while and headed up stream to the Big Dam Bridge. I crossed that (the only real hills out there!) and then went on up toward Two Rivers Bridge. When I paused for a gel and some water I started coughing a bit and got worried, but once I got back into my stride it was ok. I ran on into the pine trees and missed the warmth of the sun.
But then there were the deer. They just looked at me with moderate interest, calm and undisturbed, really. I stopped at the other side of Two Rivers Park for a drink from the water fountain, water so cold that it burned my tongue a little. Delicious! And then I turned around. The deer were still there, but some people coming in from the other direction startled them. They took off across the straw-colored field, around haystacks, the little one's bright white tail swishing rhythmically. On the far side of the clearing, I saw probably 8-10 other deer, some laying down, some grazing. I looked back over my shoulder and watched them for as long as I could.
I crossed back over the Little Maumelle River and watched white birds, their wings spread, flying low across the caramel colored water. I looked up at the sun hitting with thin cold morning pink and gold along the trees and houses high above the river. I breathed cold air and watched the other people out, looked at the cars crossing on the 430 bridge in another world from mine.
On the back side of the run, I kept my pace and still felt good. I was running on the right side of the path against the ridge. The sun hadn't touched the ground there yet, and frost blossomed thick, white, and furry on the leaves along the side of the road. I watched it, its lacy ice towers fuzzy on the vines. I dodged ice again on the temporary trail close to the dam bridge where they're building a new approach. I started to feel ready to be done, but wasn't feeling any pain (for which I'm so happy!!)
I finished 12 miles about 3/4 of a mile from the car and kept running because it was cold and I wanted to minimize the walk back. I stopped at 12.25 because it felt like a Christmassy thing to do, and I happened to be by a big, leafless tree with a dark trunk and pointed, bare branches. I thought about how different it looked a few months ago when I was last out there, and how different it felt to run in the cold--at least not longing for a reprieve from the insane heat!
It was a good morning, a good run, a day when I was grateful for the achievement and looked forward to the rest of the day--multiple blessings of family and friends, laughter and love.
I had 12 miles scheduled yesterday. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, and if it didn't go well I was ready to rethink my plan for the marathon in March. I was sick last week, totally failed at a 7 miler, and wasn't feeling strong. I got up and got dressed to go to the river, but I dawdled. It was cold so I decided I needed my jacket, which I had to go back and get. And my wrist band. And some chapstick. I told myself I was wasting time and it wasn't helping.
At the car by the trail, I talked myself out of wearing the jacket. It was cold, still under 30 degrees, but my mind told me I would be happier without the jacket. It was freezing for the first few miles--my toes and my lower legs felt numb, but I warmed up and had a comfortable run.
I had parked at the dog park at burns park for the first time in a while and headed up stream to the Big Dam Bridge. I crossed that (the only real hills out there!) and then went on up toward Two Rivers Bridge. When I paused for a gel and some water I started coughing a bit and got worried, but once I got back into my stride it was ok. I ran on into the pine trees and missed the warmth of the sun.
But then there were the deer. They just looked at me with moderate interest, calm and undisturbed, really. I stopped at the other side of Two Rivers Park for a drink from the water fountain, water so cold that it burned my tongue a little. Delicious! And then I turned around. The deer were still there, but some people coming in from the other direction startled them. They took off across the straw-colored field, around haystacks, the little one's bright white tail swishing rhythmically. On the far side of the clearing, I saw probably 8-10 other deer, some laying down, some grazing. I looked back over my shoulder and watched them for as long as I could.
I crossed back over the Little Maumelle River and watched white birds, their wings spread, flying low across the caramel colored water. I looked up at the sun hitting with thin cold morning pink and gold along the trees and houses high above the river. I breathed cold air and watched the other people out, looked at the cars crossing on the 430 bridge in another world from mine.
On the back side of the run, I kept my pace and still felt good. I was running on the right side of the path against the ridge. The sun hadn't touched the ground there yet, and frost blossomed thick, white, and furry on the leaves along the side of the road. I watched it, its lacy ice towers fuzzy on the vines. I dodged ice again on the temporary trail close to the dam bridge where they're building a new approach. I started to feel ready to be done, but wasn't feeling any pain (for which I'm so happy!!)
I finished 12 miles about 3/4 of a mile from the car and kept running because it was cold and I wanted to minimize the walk back. I stopped at 12.25 because it felt like a Christmassy thing to do, and I happened to be by a big, leafless tree with a dark trunk and pointed, bare branches. I thought about how different it looked a few months ago when I was last out there, and how different it felt to run in the cold--at least not longing for a reprieve from the insane heat!
It was a good morning, a good run, a day when I was grateful for the achievement and looked forward to the rest of the day--multiple blessings of family and friends, laughter and love.
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