Our weather has dropped to what I consider normal, high 80's and a dip into the 60's at night. If only it were like that year round. If I weren't such an ingrate, I'd stop with the whining and just be grateful that that's how it was over the weekend.
By the time Friday came around we were all ready for a couple of days off. Even the printer at work had a mini-meltdown Friday night:
I never made it out for a run on Friday either, which may have accounted for my sluggishness. I made up for it Saturday morning and had such a scary run that Michael refers to it as my Halloween run. I fell once again on the street that I always fall on. I've fallen there three times already, twice on foot and once on my bike.
My fall on Saturday was spectacular. I wish I had a video of it but a go pro could never have fully captured my wildly swinging arms and eventual tumbling. It's amazing to me how fast the asphalt comes up on you. It was like I was looking through my macro lens and the surface was getting nearer and larger very, very quickly. I sat for a minute, literally. I know because I had my interval watch on and it had just beeped to walk for 60 seconds. Evidently my body heard the beep and thought it was the signal to throw myself down to the hard, hard earth. So it did. I sat stunned for a moment, then I wiggled all of my wiggle-able parts to make sure they all worked and last but not least I checked my scraped knee to make sure I wouldn't leave a trail of blood when I continued my run.
All I wanted to do was go back home. That would have been the easiest thing, the understandable thing, maybe even the smart thing to do. But I continued on my way. There's a nice long even stretch of road that I enjoy on my run. It's very enjoyable if you don't have a black sedan with tinted windows tailing you. The sedan passed me several times. Once is totally normal, I'll even agree that twice can be acceptable, but circle around a third time behind a woman running alone on an undeveloped road with no other persons in sight? No sir.
The adrenaline that had surged during my fall was beginning to make the rounds again. I called Michael, repeating "F like Frank, V like Veronica, X like X-acto" into the phone, "He's freaking me out!" In less than five he was there. I kept running, Michael idled behind the lurker. I hate to be a wuss but there it is. And when Michael pulled up beside me all I wanted to do was open the passenger side door and sit my sweaty body down next to him and roll on home. I must say, I'm forever impressed with my own willpower when I'm able to summon it. I waved him on, "I'll meet you at home," I said.
So yes, the Saturday run was a challenge but it got me ready for today's run. I hit my 4 mile goal. I can't believe it. I didn't die, I didn't have to take a taxi back to the park. I actually ran the 4 mile route. I'm trying to add a mile a week and reach a distance of 7 miles. It seems impossible right now but I feel like I can do it. I feel like I can do anything. I'm digging myself this morning, marveling at my bad ass. I can make food come up out of the ground and I can run 4 miles! What can you do?