It is getting a little warmer around here this week. While I know it won’t last (more snow on the weekend. Yay.), I can’t help but feel very thankful. This, for now at least, is because I was able to get out for a run. Running outside when it’s not freezing, where I can sweat from the heat of the sun, is what makes me feel like a runner. What it comes down to is I like dried salt on my face. It’s really quite simple.
What I didn’t realize about yesterday’s run, though, is that I got a little bored even with the sun and the fifty degrees. I’m running along and I just can’t seem to get my head into it. I think about stopping, about just walking. I’m annoyed and really not feeling it. I tell myself this is okay, then I come upon a flight of stairs. It’s about twenty steps, nothing more. I stood at the bottom, looked up and thought run them. Then I did. We’re not talking Rocky-like steps here, but it really felt good. Running up and down those steps fifteen times made me feel better, it made me change it up. I needed that. It’s really quite simple.
As should be most things with running, after a while anyway. Like getting new shoes. I should know this by now, but last week when I started adding miles up on the calendar, I realized it’s been nearly six hundred miles since I’d bought new shoes. Is that even possible? That me, a runner, could forget to get new shoes? I mean, this used to be a religious practice. Every 400 miles is my limit, it’s what works for me. So no wonder my feet/knees/legs practically shouted with happiness when I ran in my new shoes today. I don’t know how I lost track of this, but I’m glad I’m back on. The running felt so much better. I mean, DUH, right? It’s really quite simple.
I guess, though, it would have really been nice to get my head into this run. It just didn’t happen. New shoes and shaking it up only took me so far. I would have liked to knock out six fabulous miles. That would have been great. I just couldn’t get there today. I think these days have their purpose, however. I mean, I’m not really one to feel guilty about having a bad run. I’d rather see the positive, that I’m out there. In the sun. Sweating. Might as well take advantage of it, right? Which is sort of what I did yesterday. Since time or pace didn’t really seem to matter, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty when I stopped on the section of the trail that goes by the lacrosse fields down at the college. It was here, after three miles of half-hearted effort and some stair running, that I took a good ten minutes out of my run to watch the men’s college lacrosse team score a couple goals. After all, I’m just a girl. I couldn’t help it. It’s really quite simple.
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