As the year 2010 comes to a close, I find myself sitting at my kitchen table contemplating whether or not I should make any New Year Resolutions. I've never been big on them, mostly because I think if your decision is important enough to make a resolution over, it shouldn't have to wait until December 31. But I'm a runner now, and runners make resolutions, right?
While I ponder my predicament, I'll blog a quick update on my past running week.
I knew I wasn't going to get my usual workouts in this week because of the holidays, but I at least wanted to run three times. I got close. On Friday, I ran an easy 7 miles and on Sunday, I ran 15 miles... in the woods.
So that's the short of it.
Now- the long of it. Last Thursday, we had to put my kitty of 13 years to sleep because he had a tumor in his intestine (I knew he was sick, just didn't know it was this bad). I don't consider myself a huge "cat person," but Queequeg wasn't your typical cat. He had more personality in him than some of the dogs I've met. And while I knew his health was failing, there's still no easy way to make the choice to put a pet down. It kind of dampened the Christmas cheer...
The next day I went out a did my 7. It was especially good for me to run that day, and I was reminded of why I like running in the first place: I can 'run away' from my thoughts. And that's the best I can do to describe my run. I didn't feel great and I was dog-tired from the day before, but it was good for my soul.
A few days later, my dad (an avid trail runner) took me out to his 'neck of the woods' to bust my butt on a 15 mile loop he visits quite frequently. Since he was fighting a cold (more on that later) I was able to keep him hoppin for the first half. The first 2 hours and 10 miles were very enjoyable for me. Running in the woods is far different than the road. For one thing, the scenery is different and in my opinion, much more pleasant. You also have to pay more attention to your feet, whereas when running on the pavement, your strides can get very monotonous. I took my first trail fall so as my dad puts it, I'm no longer a 'trail virgin.' There was a fallen tree on the path, which I was preparing to clear. Unfortunately, I didn't see the stump preceding the tree.
After a brief sensation of flying, I ate dirt. Lots of dirt. I did my best to salvage my pride and got up as fast I could to brush it off. My right shin was bleeding, my left knee had a lump quickly growing, and my thigh looked like I had run through a brier patch. But whatever, I'm tough (I'm a runner!). Yeah right... those scratches and bruises hurt far worse than my tired muscles!
We finished the last 5 miles out on hills (mild in comparison to the North Carolina Appalachian hills, but still admirable in Florida's terms). That's when he surpassed me. We'll say it was the hills... but I'm fairly certain he outran me because I'm just not conditioned (yet) to run more than 12-13 miles. That's got to change...
Thus concludes my running adventures in Florida. I would have loved to have gotten one more run in (don't we all, though) but the plague had invaded our household. Family coming in from Ohio brought the flu with them, sharing it with my father, and then sharing it with me. I spent the rest of my time in Florida with a box of tissues (well, a roll of toilet paper), drinking countless amounts of Gatorade and popping Sudifed like they were candy (no, not really, but I did keep to the 4 hour schedule...).
I could spend another 10 minutes whining about my Christmas holiday, but I won't. But tomorrow is not only a new day, it is a new year.
So while the rest of the world counts down the New Year and watches the ball drop, I'll wave goodnight and fall into a pseudoephedrine-induced coma.