Last night's run: after rain
I ran late yesterday... around 8:30pm. I was going to run after work, but despite my attempt to beat the approaching thunderstorm, it caught up with me about 10 minutes after I got home. I think it might nice to run in the rain, at least a light rain, definitely not the wind howling rain this was. I wasn't going to run after that, just going to call it a loss. But around 8:20, not too long after eating dinner, I felt the pull. So I changed and went for a run by myself. I knew my tummy wouldn't like running after eating so soon, but I also knew it wouldn't be so bad. I've done it before and I knew the slight cramping would go away after a bit, and it did. My stride or form has really improved this week. But I'm not convinced that it will be or I will be consistent enough to keep up the stride. I'm trying though. As for the pace, I think it's finally time to go for two miles, which means I'll need to slow my pace. By the end of one I feel good. But like I could go on. At this point it's a mental challenge more than physical. Even though I feel like I could go on, something switches on and I think "it's been one mile, time to stop." Maybe I should try a new path so that I'm not always judging the distance of where I've already ran.
I usually run the same path every day. I start out down a short hill, then up a longer hilly incline. Once I've reached the top of the incline, just when I think the ground should be flattening out again, the surface tricks me and continues to rise for a moment this time on asphalt. Concrete is harder than asphalt, asphalt more like dense foam, a little cushioning. The asphalt evens out into a plateau and I'm running on flat surface again, but it's difficult at first like running on sand. After the asphalt comes another decline, a much needed slope, then a winding stretch of flat concrete again. At the halfway mark I go back the way I came. Flat concrete, short but steep hill, asphalt surface. On the plateau of asphalt surface I sprint as fast as I can for a hundred yards at the end. I walk the rest of the way home and appreciate the fresh air, singing birds, neighbors gardens, trees and sky. Last night on my walk home, I went the long way around and peered into the alleys in between rows of homes. I noticed a patch of small bell shaped purple flowers shooting out of the earth on long willowy stems. Passing under a tree I held a fistful of wet leaves, still on their branch and lightly squeezed the rainwater out and let it run down my hands. At my doorstep, I realized that we have the same purple bell like flowers growing in our small garden plot overtaken with large shrubs and what some would call weeds. I hadn't really seen the purple bells until now. I wrapped my hand around a dozen petals and did the same as I had done with the tree. I held the petals, the willowy stem in my right hand and let the rainwater soak my palm. I glanced to my right and saw fireflies glowing morse code in the blackberry patch next door. At the end, it's always hard to return home. Being behind a desk most of the day, this is usually my time to be outside and reconnect with life and sometimes rain.
I usually run the same path every day. I start out down a short hill, then up a longer hilly incline. Once I've reached the top of the incline, just when I think the ground should be flattening out again, the surface tricks me and continues to rise for a moment this time on asphalt. Concrete is harder than asphalt, asphalt more like dense foam, a little cushioning. The asphalt evens out into a plateau and I'm running on flat surface again, but it's difficult at first like running on sand. After the asphalt comes another decline, a much needed slope, then a winding stretch of flat concrete again. At the halfway mark I go back the way I came. Flat concrete, short but steep hill, asphalt surface. On the plateau of asphalt surface I sprint as fast as I can for a hundred yards at the end. I walk the rest of the way home and appreciate the fresh air, singing birds, neighbors gardens, trees and sky. Last night on my walk home, I went the long way around and peered into the alleys in between rows of homes. I noticed a patch of small bell shaped purple flowers shooting out of the earth on long willowy stems. Passing under a tree I held a fistful of wet leaves, still on their branch and lightly squeezed the rainwater out and let it run down my hands. At my doorstep, I realized that we have the same purple bell like flowers growing in our small garden plot overtaken with large shrubs and what some would call weeds. I hadn't really seen the purple bells until now. I wrapped my hand around a dozen petals and did the same as I had done with the tree. I held the petals, the willowy stem in my right hand and let the rainwater soak my palm. I glanced to my right and saw fireflies glowing morse code in the blackberry patch next door. At the end, it's always hard to return home. Being behind a desk most of the day, this is usually my time to be outside and reconnect with life and sometimes rain.