But Thursday, which was MM's birthday (don't ask his age, hee, hee), we headed over Kincaid Park for an evening run. I forgot my camera, which is typical, but no matter, since the trails were mush: Lots of mud and standing water and ankle-deep snow. And oh-- how nice to be surrounded by trees again.
The birthday boy got this:
Can you believe he didn't have one? Now he can simply tune me out when I start bitching about how unfair it is that he runs faster than me, hee, hee.
Saturday we hit the Turnagain Arm Trail and oh, oh, oh! It was awesome, just a few small patches of snow and then ground! Mud! Muck! Mud puddles! All the things I love so, so much. And killer hills, too.
We ran out and back so that we had to run up the hill at Rainbow,which is over a mile long. Here's a pic from the trail at the top. The hill starts down by the road--see the road down there, that thin little speck?
|Where, oh where, is all of the green??|
Can't say enough about how great it was to get back on the trails again, away from the pavement and the people and the bicycles and dog walkers. It was glorious and heavenly. Beebs thought so too. The old gal turns 12 later this month and still ran strong and hardy and didn't seem to mind that we had to heave her old hips over a few fallen logs and trees.
It felt so awesome running back that I became reckless and charged down the long and rocky and rutted hill by McHugh Creek and face-planted smack in the mud.
What is it about falling that is so intriguing? Each time I fall (and I fall a lot), there is a moment of suspended time, a millisecond of my body falling before it hits the hard and rough ground that is so enticing yet so scary. Each time, even through the pain, I marvel.
This time I bruised my knee. No running for a few days, which is driving me crazy but, as Gloria Gaynor so bravely sang, I Will Survive.
And my favorite part of the whole run? A visit by my very own Captain Underpants (I'm such a lucky girl, hee, hee):
Gotta love MM's attitude, and the fact that he doesn't mind when I laugh so hard about his underwear peeking over his tights that I have to sit down in the middle of the trail. Okay, I'm childish and immature but I'm also a very entertaining running partner. (Or maybe not??)
Happy trails, everyone.
Weekly miles: 37 (yeah, kinda low, sigh, sigh)
Reading: Comfort Women, by Nora Okja Keller (a sometimes difficult read but oh, so worth it)