Return to the Chase

This morning I redeemed myself at the chase run.  The weather was surprising cool for this time of year in the 60's.  The group did better than our predicted times.  It worked out as planned with all the runners finishing at about the same time.  For four miles I was right behind a woman who started 20 seconds ahead of me.  I kept wondering when I would catch her.  We were both ahead of pace and only in the last 200 meters did I decide to make a move.  I increased my speed to catch her at the end.

The scenery along the wooded greenway was lovely and enhanced by the early morning light.  At the end of two miles, I saw a break in the woods and the sun shining on the lake.  Then I knew to look down for the two mile marker, which I missed on my first chase run.  Found it!

On the return trip I continued to notice the amount of effort it took to keep pace.  I marveled at how I could have run as fast as I did in my last marathon.  Obviously I'm not in competitive shape now. The best thing about this morning is that I was accompanied by two friends.  If they hadn't decided to go with me, there is a good chance that I would have slept through the 6AM start.  One of them had run the chase several times last year and the other, with an adventurous spirit, was new to the chase.   I look forward to the next chase!

Remarkable

This morning I awoke at 4AM and couldn't return to sleep.  I tried.  I realized that anxiety about a few upcoming events kept me from falling asleep again and read about insomnia on Wikipedia.  Around 5:30 AM I thought I might as well go for an early run, but I didn't have time to meet the early group.  When I ventured out at 6:30AM, I had technical difficulties with my Garmin.  After my long run on Saturday, it beeped incessantly until I turned it over to my husband to quiet.  This morning it gave me nothing but the time.

My run on the greenway was unremarkable.  I saw a friend who had led the early run group walking her dog, and we stopped and chatted.  I promised that I would make some early runs in the future.  A little later I noticed new vandalism and stopped to take pictures.  I cannot understand why bored teens feel the need to destroy wood bridge railings.

Then the remarkable did happen.  As I climbed a hill toward home, I saw a priest walking toward me on the sidewalk reading what I assume was a small Bible.  I felt like I was moving in slow motion, and I stared and stared some more.  He looked up, and I nodded.  The local parish priest lives in the neighborhood, but this was not him.  After I passed the priest, a huge smile spread across my face.  I stopped, turned, and contemplated stalking him to get a good picture for my blog.  I let him proceed in peace and took a picture of him walking away at a distance.

I don't remember removing my earphones, but I put them on after taking the picture.  Florence and the Machine's "Shake It Up" was playing at these exact lyrics, "And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off."  I often look for reasons for things.  This was the reason for my insomnia.   I was meant to happen upon this unfamiliar priest on a familiar run and hear those lyrics, which I've played over and over, but never really heard.    

Then I thought about the presence of God within those who walk among us and was overcome with emotion.  I pulled myself together before encountering two familiar men walking their dogs.  I looked at them a little differently this morning.

Hurt but Fine

Recently, I wrote that I always feel better after a run.  This morning I used that thought as an affirmation, repeatedly, during a muggy, sluggish, mid-morning run.  By the time I finished walking the last mile, I was grateful for what the day gave me.

I was ready to go this morning after tending to a sick child for days and missing some workouts.  When I started I was curious to learn how my new running equipment would work.  My husband gave me a neon pink Spibelt and two water bottles for my birthday this week.  His timing and gift selection were perfect.

On Saturday I felt like a pack horse during my long run wearing my fuel belt.  I took it off on the trail and placed it by the 2.5 mile marker and opted to carry one of the little bottles with a worn out cap, which leaked sticky, blue Gatorade on me for the rest of the run.  I have been wanting the little belt and a bottle to hold in my hand while I run.

The new belt worked great!  I will have to get used to the water bottles.  During the run I couldn't believe how much my hand was sweating against the plastic of the bottle.  I wondered why they can't make a water bottle that could keep me from feeling that way.  My husband informs me that it wasn't my hand sweating, but just the condensation from the cool contents of the bottle meeting the summer air.  Maybe it won't bother me so much the next time.

Into the fifth mile and heading for home, I stopped to take a picture of a weather vane atop a well tended home that I've passed, but never noticed.   Just past that house, I studied a familiar house in contrast, which I assume a bank has foreclosed.  I didn't dwell for long on that though because I twisted my ankle.

At the intersection of two roads, the pavement was uneven where one road has yet to be sufficiently surfaced.  I have run this route countless times, but today I went down.   The pain was fast and sharp.  I cried out a curse word and plopped myself on the curb.  At first I didn't think I could make it home.  Then I hobbled a bit and began the walk home, and I was fine.  Even though it was hot, and I got hurt, I was still better off than before the run began.  As I write, my ankle is swollen.  Tomorrow I will rest.

Serendipity

I was content when I awoke this morning after having collapsed into a bed last night in my five-year-old's bedroom.  I had pleasant memories of the previous evening, but recognized that my body was tired after being out late with my little Lady Antebellum fan.

I walked, probably a mile, from the car with a packed backpack and a beach chair in each hand to the concert venue and then made the return trip. Of course there was the repeated hoisting of dear daughter and dancing with her on my shoulders. I got some strength and endurance training.

I did not want to get out of bed, but when I did, communication glitches kept me from making the start of my planned run with friends. I also missed going out with another group of friends, but I knew where to find them and reasoned that I would either catch them or run into them and return with them, so off I went.

After a few miles when I was feeling the heat of the day and tightness in my calves, my coach appeared on a bicycle beside me by coincidence and asked how my running is coming along.

She observed my new form and critiqued it.  Her advice: Lean slightly forward and land more on my mid foot (instead of my forefoot), and maybe practice in a mirror. At the same time, she complimented me and said that my form has never looked better. What must I have looked like before, I wondered. She peddled on.

Farther along I saw some women approaching with whom I have shared track workouts. Momentarily, I was tempted to turn and join them (cutting my run short, too), but I had yet to catch my intended target group.

Finally, I saw a familiar braided ponytail swinging from side to side in the distance. I caught my friends and time passed quickly while we talked about an upcoming half marathon, early married life, injuries, and the like.

Almost to the end and closing in on mile 11, I saw another friend running toward us who has been injured and was on the trail for the first time in months.  We had a mini reunion and celebration. I was so happy to see her that I told my companions that I'd catch up with them later and turned to run with her before turning back and finishing the run to the Police's "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic."

It was a somewhat magical and serendipitous run. I could have stayed in bed. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised, repeatedly, and joyous throughout the run. When I rejoined the group, it was reward time with fresh, homemade raspberry and blueberry muffins. If I ever need an external motivator  to join this group on a Saturday, it is the promise of post-run baked goods.  But every day that I run, my internal motivator is the promise that I will feel good after a run. And, today I felt simple, sweet serendipity.

Why run the Ky Bourbon Chase relay?

Today my husband and I went for a run together.  He was working from home, and I was working on a room parent project while the kids were at school.  In the past, we rarely ran together.  He started running a year-and-a-half ago, and he is usually at home with the kids (if they aren't in school) when I am running.  But in the last month, we have run together several times.

He led me on his four mile course, and I fell in line with his pace.  When we first started, I was excited about the work crew assembled in our yard to remove overzealous creeping juniper and brown grass to make way for a new carpet of zoysia sod.  From experience I know that one project leads to another, and I chatted about my upcoming job of spreading 15 cubic yards of mulch.

Then we settled into a comfortable silence, much like what I experienced on Saturday's long run with a friend when we talked and then enjoyed a quiet run together until she ran ahead.  I am glad that my husband and I can share this interest in running.  His first real taste of the sport in his adult life was when he drove a van for my team's 200 mile relay race through Kentucky two years ago.  He saw how crazy we were, but we had so much fun, that I suppose he wanted to join us.

The next year he did run the race with us and combined his new interest in running with a long-standing interest in film making.  He produced a short video about why one might want to run the Kentucky Bourbon Chase, and I'm sharing it here.