Foolish runners, foolish choices

I was all geared up for a killer running week.

Instead, I caught a nasty cold. I coughed so hard and for so long that the only thing that consoled me was that maybe, just maybe, I was getting a good ab work out in the process.

When Sunday arrived and my head cleared and I was coughing only slightly hard instead of really, really hard, I hit the trails for a slow four and a half miler with MM and The Beebs.

Turnagain Arm Trail during the summer. Aren't the birch trees lovely? Like slender women dancing.

It was a glorious run through wet leaves and mud, and the cool and rainy air must have gone to my head because suddenly it occured to me: If I ran five more miles later that evening, I'd hit 20 miles for the week.

Twenty miles is my absolute-unless-I'm-injured-or-on-my-deathbed minimum limit.

So even though I was still feeling sick, even though I knew better, I still snuck off to the gym Sunday evening for what I told myself would be five slow treadmill miles.

Planet Fitness, I love tee. Okay, I love thy cheapo rates.

I ran those miles at my 10K pace. I don't know why. I just did.

That night my fever returned and I sweated and shivered through two tee-shirts.

(Anyone else out there find it difficult to not run, even when sick??)

Today, MM wanted to ride bikes and of course I said yes, even though I was feeling icky again.

We hit the Coastal Trail, and it rained lightly and the air smelled fresh and I was so happy (!), even though my stomach complained and my nose ran so hard I finally stopped wiping it and let it do its thing.

We stopped at the beach for a romantic walk, Alaska style.

Everything was blue and grey, with hints of silver, and anyone who reads this blog knows that those are my favorite Alaska color combinations. I've learned that there's a beauty in the subdued, a brilliance inside muted shadows.

An eagle soared above us. I tried to capture it in a picture but it was too high, and too far away. (Oh, oh, oh--to fly!)

Now it's late and my chest is congested, again, and my nose is running, but so what, eh? I got in my miles (foolishly) and flew down the big hill after Kincaid Park on my bike, and the wind blew and rain fell upon my face and I was gloriously happy. I suppose in the end, that's all that really matters (she says with a loud and violent cough).

Running: 20.05 miles for the week
Reading: "The Wife's Tale" by Lori Lansens
Writing: Yes, yes and oh yes