First though, I have to say Happy Memorial Day to my father, a Korean War vet who died when I was six. I never really knew him well, since I was so young when he departed, but I think he would have been proud of how I turned out (except for those not so stellar years in my early twenties when I went, ummm, a little wild). I think we would have much to talk about, if his ghost every decides to visit (please visit, Daddy, okay?).
But back to runs. This week was another gearing-toward-longer-weekend-runs week, and while the beginning was easy enough, the ending kicked my butt, and in the best possible way.
Early in the week runs:
|Mountain sheep! See them? Those little white dots?|
Saturday's long run was slated for 20. MM ran the first 10 miles with me on the Campbell trails. It was raining and we were practically the only ones out. I didn't take any photos but it was an amazing run, the light filmy and dreamy, due to the rain, and the footing soft and muddy, and we ran for almost nine miles without passing anyone. We ran us some hills (hills!) and some dips and rollers and then it was time for MM to drive off and leave me to run all the way home alone. In the rain. Which I loved.
The way home was over paved bike trails. I've noticed that running trails is quite a bit more difficult than pavement. There are more and steeper hills, rougher footing, more concentration needed due to rougher footing, and did I mention more hills? And so the second part of the run, on cushy pavement, was quite a bit faster than the first (negative splits, baby). I never bonked or wanted to slow down. The only low point was when three drunk men hassled me around Valley of the Moon Park. I told them to "Leave me alone, thank you," and pointed my mace in their faces and they scattered. Still, it sucks that women have to worry about being hassled when running alone. It really pisses me off, in fact.
When I arrived home my Garmin read exactly 21.16 miles and, best of all, MM had dinner ready, a huge spread of rice and past and veggies and tofu. What a man! What a life!
Spent the remainder of the evening foam rolling while watching "The Squid and the Whale."
Sunday came around and I popped out of bed and, with my tired legs, tackled 10 miles out at Kincaid Park. For those of you who don't know, Kincaid Park is a series of winding ski trails, and I get lost every. single. time. I run there. It's also all hills, with almost no (no!) flat areas. My legs protested the whole time. I never reached that happy I'm-running-and-everything-is-glorious phase but I made it through, which is good because after this coming week, which is a step-down week, my mileage increases dramatically (gulp!).
|Mr. Moose, out at Kincaid Park.|
|Old, abandoned car surrounded by green (green!) along the Jodhpur Trail.|
Tuesday: 5.2 miles, hills
Wednesday: 9 miles, fastish pace
Thursday: 6 miles
Sunday: 10, hills (some big ones, too)
What I'm reading: Epilogue: A Memoir by Will Boast, and it is so, so good.