Never Not Glad

Funny thing, this running.  There are days when I just don't want to do it.  I don't have any energy, or I'd like to sleep a little longer, or I'm hungry, or I'm feeling a little queazy.  Somehow, though, I make myself get out there and once I'm done I'm glad that I went.

Today was one of those days.  I had a long, but fun weekend catching up with high school friends at the Wright Christian Academy reunion (Cori if you comment on this post I promise to respond).  By the time Sunday night came around I really did not want to get up at 4:45 Monday morning.  Luckily the temperature for Monday was forecasted to be 90 for the high.   So it was settled.  I was running Monday evening.  Well, I was still groggy when I got up this morning.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes open at my desk.  Mondays are weights day at lunch when my running partner and I go to the crumby little fitness center in our office building and do some light weights.  Additionally, we do three sets of lunges which always makes my legs feel heavy.  As the afternoon wore on, the sun really never saw its way out into the overcast sky.  I checked weather.com, and, sure enough, it was predicting thunderstorms for after work.  Darn.  Maybe I won't be able to run.

I bobbed my head a little in a joyful fashion at the notion of maybe not having to run today.  Suddenly...  

Angel over my right shoulder: No, but that would be bad!  You took yesterday off!

Demon over my left should: It would be nice though to go straight home and lay on the couch.

Angel:  It's really not even raining that bad.

Demon: Don't you remember the last time you ran in the rain?  It ended up being one of the worst storms of the summer.

Angel: It's four o'clock you seem to be perking up a bit.

Demon: Almost time for dinner.

Angel: Let's go run.

Me: Yes, let's.

I got up from my desk feeling uninspired, yet determined.  Once I set out on the trail it was still raining a bit.  But it was the perfect kind of running rain: keeping the air cool but not heavy in the least.  The first mile felt like I was shuffling.  I didn't feel like I was able to pick my feet up very far off the ground, but, as it turns out, I was a hair under 8 minutes.  As I kept running my legs became looser and looser.  It turned out to be one of my top 5 runs of the summer.  I ran the third mile in 8:26.  From there on out I ran negative splits ending up with a 7:17 mile for my seventh and final!

Predictably, I was glad that I had gone for my run.  I didn't get struck by lightning.  I didn't fall or get chased by a dog.  I just went out and had a near perfect summer run.

What a morning!

Alright, well, slightly gay that I posted a clip from Oklahoma!, but this morning was one of the best morning's I've had for a run in a while.  And--a little secret--when I run in the morning and the weather is nice, this song is on constant repeat in my head.  And it's very specifically Hugh Jackman singing it.  I just like the way he says "meada" instead of meadow.  I'm fairly certain that's how Oscar Hammerstein wrote the lyric anyway, but I digress.

It's days like this that remind me of why I love to run.  Unfortunately, I haven't gotten that reminder a whole lot this summer.  But this morning -- 70 degrees, blue skies, a slight breeze -- you can't ask for better conditions.  Not surprisingly, this was the best run I've had in a long time.  I went twelve miles (no breaks. Yay!) at an 8:18 pace.  Clearly, the weather makes all the difference in the world.  I already knew that, but, you know, actually seeing it gives you a little more confidence.  I thought that I had taken several steps backward since the weather turned.  I'm still not quite where I'd like to be, but once fall comes back in twelve years I should be able to get back on track.  

Previous to the last couple of days (Friday morning was also fantastic), it was HOT this week.  My mileage suffered.  Tuesday's track was brutal, brutal, brutal.  We ended up only doing 8x400 because not only was it 102, but there was a 17 mph wind coming out of the south gusting at 25.  It was miserable.  Trying to run at all in wind like that sucks, but trying to run fast?  Please.  It was too much.  Plus I was having some pretty harsh heel pain that day.  It wasn't so bad during the run, but I was kind of afraid I had plantar fasciitis.  It's abated since, but I'm going to keep an eye on it.  Then Wednesday, I tried to go six miles but it was even hotter.  I turned around after I had run out 2.35 so I only totaled 4.7 mi.  That's fine, but I haven't gone out and run for less than 5 miles in ages.  I might has well have stayed home.  I took Thursday off, and Friday  (after the weather had turned) I ran 7 mi in the morning.  Like I said, it was great.  If today's weather was a 10 yesterday was an 8.  I finished up with an 8:28 average pace.

So despite a rough beginning I was able to end the week on a good note.  It would be great if this weather would stick around for a while, but, then, there's still August.  Boo.

Musings on an Early Morning Run

Welcome back to my woefully neglected blog.

Well, I got my wish.  It certainly got warmer.  In what seemed like a one-week period it went from a sort of would-be-warm-if-it-weren't-for-the-wind-coming-out-of-the-north climate to a it's-so-hot-that-this-light-breeze-doesn't-even-feel-good climate.  It's been a miserable summer so far here in Tulsa.  It got hot early and stayed hot.  So what do I do now?  I mean besides lose 30 to 45 seconds a mile because of the arm-pittish humidity?  I get up at 4:45 in the morning to run these days.  Yes, you heard your robot read that off of your computer screen correctly.   4:45.  It's the only way that I can get the miles in!  

I know that I'm not the only runner to get up early to run, but what an adjustment.  Now, granted I don't do it for every run because sometimes it's not feasible.  I've still been doing my speed workouts with my running partner on Tuesdays after work, which is murder.  But for the six milers throughout the week...if I can get 'em done in the morning that's when it happens.   

When I get up in the morning I don't exactly have time to drive out to a trail so I've carved out a path in the neighborhood across the street from my apartment.  It's just easier to run right out the door.  The neighborhood just so happens to be the neighborhood that I grew up in.  It's fun because I pass all sorts of places that I used spend time.  Houses where childhood friends used to live; the man-made creek that we used to play in and hunt for crawdads.  That's also the creek that my friend Steve accidentally stabbed his little sister in the eye with a pocket knife.  True story.  What's really beginning to irritate me about the neighborhood, though, is all the freaking dogs that are just running around free.  For a while there were these two little yappy dogs that I can only assume kept getting out of their back yard and would camp out in front of the house.  For several mornings in a row, I would pass that house and they would chase me for about 10 yards.  I wasn't afraid of them.  It's just that their little annoying barks were a little much at 5:15 in the morning.  This morning, however, was a different story all together.  I had already gotten turned around once (it's dark and I lack depth perception without my glasses), but I had gotten back on track.  I was running on a straight-away that I would say is about a half mile.  Out of nowhere I hear a not so friendly big dog bark.  Sure enough, he was free and he began to chase.  I swore.  Sorry.  But it happened.  I had no idea what I was going to do if this dog caught up to me.  I had a feeling it was a kill or be killed situation.  I heard his nails grind against the asphalt behind me as he pursued.  Luckily, I guess he was just trying to scare me away from his house.  Good tactic because it worked.  I got away from him, but there was no way that I was going to go back that way, so I had to take a different route back.  I weaved my way back but every time I thought I had reached the outlet to my regular route, I had to take a turn in the wrong direction.  By the time I got back on track I was pretty spent.  But I still had about a mile and quarter to get back.  Oh, and during this whole adventure, I somehow--earlier in the run--forgot to start my watch again after I had stopped to tie my shoe.  Grrrr.  My watch only gave me credit for 5.35 miles when I'm fairly certain I went at least 7.  Ah, well.  

The good news that's come out of the heat wave, is that somehow I've managed to keep about a 35-mile a week average.  I just hope that once the weather cools down, I'm able to get my speed back.  These nine-minute miles just aren't working for me.  I ran twelve on Saturday morning and managed an 8:40 pace, so I guess it's not all bad.  But I was so much faster when the weather was cooler.  

That's what I get for complaining.