When I found out Steven had to get up early this morning, I knew it would be a good opportunity to run. For one reason, the temperature was supposed to be over 90 later. I know, it is a good idea to train in all sorts of weather. Sometimes I have to give myself every advantage. As it turned out, conditions were not ideal in the pre-dawn hours, so I don’t have to feel like I’m too spoiled.
I got right from my bed into my running clothes and out the door before I well knew what I was about. I’ve found that is often the best method, especially when you are as good at thinking up excuses as I am. I hit the pavement at 3:36, two minutes earlier than I usually do for these early morning runs.
I congratulated myself on getting out while the temperature was still reasonable and reminded myself to watch for skunks. It was Garbage Day in Herkimer. I didn’t even see any cats and for the longest time only saw one car. The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (that was the title of a movie I saw once) (I didn’t like it).
Since I had not run any hills recently (don’t judge), I thought I would do the one by Valley Health. As I approached it, I thought it really was not that bad of a hill. I could try something more challenging next time. I was only slightly out of breath at the top of the hill. Must control my breathing. I know from experience that if I have a VCD episode while running I feel just awful for the rest of the day (that’s Vocal Chord Dysfunction, a breathing problem I suffer from). Around Valley Health and down the hill.
Ah, downhill. All you have to do is move your feet a little and let gravity do the rest. Just enjoy the view, I always tell myself. Only there wasn’t much of a view, because it was still dark. I decided I would not run down by the high school as I often do. Too dark. Safety first for Mohawk Valley Girl, I thought, composing my blog post in my head.
I soon realized that although the temperature was reasonable it was quite humid. Once again I had forgotten my head band. If only my glasses wouldn’t fog. They fogged. I may try running in contact lenses.
It occurred to me that I had not seen any lights on in any houses. I started looking for some. It always makes me feel better to see lights on in houses. I feel that way when I’m traveling too, especially all by myself on a Greyhound bus (although I have not been there in a number of years, thank God). Good grief, not even a bathroom nightlight to lighten my load.
As ran down Prospect Street I thought I heard a vehicle driving through a parking lot. I was immediately suspicious. Why would a car be going through a parking lot at this hour? It was coming up behind me. And slowing down! It was my paper deliverers. They have a wide territory. I believe I’ve mentioned how much I love my efficient paper deliverers.
The lady waved to me as she walked up to a house with the paper. I waved back. I was close enough to exchange Good Mornings before she got back in the vehicle. I tried to think of something clever to say, but nothing came to mind. When I caught up to them at the next house I said, “I’m stalking you.”
“I don’t mind,” she said.
Then I turned a corner and went on alone. I saw a few lights on, which made me feel happy. Then I saw some flashing blue lights. Probably television, I thought, but I also thought it might be a secret after-hours club with some unusual disco lights. I speculated on what the password would be if I knocked on the door for admittance. Yes, these are the silly thoughts that amuse me as I run.
As usual, I debated with myself how long I should run. I ended up doing 30 minutes ending on not really a sprint but an accelerated pace, followed by my usual cool-down walk with Tabby. I confess that when I got out of bed and for at least the first third of the run I was NOT in the mood for it. That changed about the time I realized that the complaints were all from my grumpy brain. My legs were just quietly pumping along as if they could run for days. I felt pretty pleased about that, and happy that I could spend the rest of the day telling myself, “At least I ran.”