This is the winter of my discontent. Well, maybe not quite as dramatic as John Steinbeck put it, but I sure am going to be happy when we have shaken the dust from this winter mess and moved on to greener and warmer pastures. I braved the falling snow which for the first half of my sixteen mile trek provided yet another challenge in the hefty stack already in place when a human body attempts to run for two and a half hours. But I did it. I did it, and it was actually a little better than last week’s fifteen if you are going to hold a gun to my head and force me to be positive.
My knees and hips decided to cooperate enough to get the job done. That’s not to imply that my body was “happy”, hence my husband was kind enough to prepare my lovely and enjoyable ice bath once again.
There is a lot of time to think when you run distance alone, a great many other runners of all shapes, and sizes, and running forms that cross my path. Today my thoughts traveled back… through many, many pairs of running shoes to the first ones, and the first cross country race I ran in them in eleventh grade. There was me, Denise Francis, and Sue Gallagher- making up the original girls cross country team at Stevenson High School. I didn’t actually finish that race.
I was new at it, not much training, and three miles was just too hard. But I learned a very valuable lesson that day. I had been tittering at some athletes who were running in a race before me- laughing at them because they were so ridiculously slow, funny running style, and far behind the main group. The joke was on me though, as when it was my turn, I couldn’t even finish. I gave up. That little lesson in humility left its mark; I learned then there is a lot more to someone than their size, or clothes, or odd running style. The only thing that really matters is the heart, and the courage to try.
|This nice big White Pine is my marker for only one and a quarter miles to go.|