Magic

I was having an awful run. I'd started slow and was getting slower and slower as I trudged through the park in the early morning darkness. I wasn't too upset though - I'd had two relatively decent runs the day before - a morning seven, and an evening four, all at a decent pace. But now I was paying the price. I was just plain tired, and my AT hurt.

Then the forest began to glow. I was on the final path back when I noticed it. The pinkish/orangish sunrise, combined with the beautiful autumn leaves made the entire world look magical. In order to see it all unfold, I turned back to the east, directly away from the direction I needed to go in order to get back. Being so tired and sore, this was indeed a run that I needed to get finished.

Yet I didn't even think about the pain and fatigue for that instant when I made the decision to turn around. You don't get to witness magic every day. And this was the real deal. Worth every step in the wrong direction.

Only days when you run.

Imperfect Ten

Ten miles, ten-minute pace.

The attempt at recovery continues. Most of my runs are at about ten-minute pace, and my longest ones, which I do two, or sometimes three times per week, top out at ten miles.

I was going to add the usual caveat: but they haven't been pretty. But a couple of them really weren't all that bad. Like the time I was working hard to get my pace down to nine-thirty, and I suddenly literally run into Dave Gajewski in the park, switch directions, and then start doing eight-thirty miles instead. Or the time I witnessed a bright pinkish-orange morning sunrise, giving the already red and orange foliage a positively beautiful glow and lighting up the whole park.

The non-pretty side is that I still have the back pain, the leg pain and the Achilles pain. And now I'm getting a cold. So I did today's ten on the mill.

Maybe tomorrow will be a bit less imperfect.