More Drizzle

October Rainy Day

October Rainy Day

More rain today. We haven’t had a fully sunny day in quite a while. Forecast for tonight: rain. I need to decide whether or not to get up early and run. I was thinking I would run about 7:00 AM–early, but not nearly as early as I have been running. Then my wife says she wants to leave at 7:00 to go for a hike.  So do I wait until much later in the morning, when I am likely to be less motivated?  Or do I get up way early, even though it will be Saturday? Plus, it will be raining.

I will get in 20 plus miles this week. It still feels like not enough, but slow and steady, eh? I’m thinking maybe a half marathon next month. If I can build up the miles slowly enough I can do that. Or, as has been the case too often the past couple of years, I somehow injure myself. So far so good, but it is tempting to push it. Tomorrow I go seven and a half miles. A good solid run. I almost hope it will be raining, whenever I decide to go. That would be good for settling the mind.

I feel good and I am glad I have been rising early. It isn’t easy. I often don’t get quite enough sleep. But I need to do it. Early morning is the only time I’ve got to run consistently, and once I’ve done it, the day has started well. I am stronger now and, most nights, I sleep better. I have even managed to miss the big downpours in the morning–I’ve lucked out with the timing. Maybe tomorrow I’ll run in the rain. I’m picturing a light rain, a drizzle if you will. Just enough to keep me moving, to keep me cool, to keep my mind in the moment. It would be nice to think about nothing but my breathing, and the water on my cheeks, and where the puddles might be. For an hour or so, I can leave the rest behind.

One Foot After the Other

So on the one hand I feel all “look at me I’m running eleven miles when it’s twenty degrees and windier than the prelude to the Wizard of Oz” and I know no one else is out there and boy am I special and aren’t I one tough dude?  And on the other hand I feel all “I hope no one drives by because I’m so frikkin’ hot from working so hard and my remaining hair is plastered down to my tiny head with sweat and I’m plodding along slower than a three-legged dog on heroin” and so old-mannish I’m almost embarrassed.

Sometimes when I run for that long (two hours today you can call me Mr. Pokey McGillicuddy) I have way too much time to think.  I mean, who cares what I look like or how slow I’m going?  I’m running eleven miles when all you couch potatoes are reading trashy novels or watching old war movies or whatever and my lungs could beat up your lungs any day, so cram it if you think I look like some greasy old jogging slug.

I haven’t run that far since August.  Back then it was hot and at least no one could see my sweaty wisps of what is left of my hair because I wore a brimmed hat.  I wore a hat today but it was of the fleece-because-its-winter-and-I-want-to-keep-my-ears-no-frostbite-for-me-thanks variety.  Also, I wore shorts and short sleeves in the summer and any passersby could see my burly arms so they wouldn’t notice if I moved slowly in fact they would be grateful because they would be pondering my resemblance to Adonis.  But of course I had to go with sleeves today.

I have my mileage in for the week now.  I could give up on a run tomorrow and still be on the positive side of my goal.  Of course, the more I manage to get in the less I will plod.  My goal here really is about running far, but if I can enhance my image at the same time, who’s to say that won’t do?  I live here in the United States, after all, where image matters more than substance much of the time.  I’m just trying to get my piece, if you know what I’m saying.

Seriously, it was a good run–slow but I got it done.  That’s a confidence booster, for sure.  The wind is still howling, although the temperature is now just above freezing.  I’m glad I went earlier.  I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m a wuss.