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Tag Archives: Herkimer County Community College

One Week! Seriously?

It is one week before the Boilermaker 15K.  I hope all the flooding in Utica does not t put a — wait for it — damper on the proceedings (you must see that I had to make that pun).   I felt that I had to go for a good, long, challenging run this morning, especially since yesterday’s run was cut short.  Accordingly, I got dressed for it as soon as I got out of bed about 6 a.m.  I drank water as I got ready, stretched out a little (which I often neglect to do), and set out.

I expected a lot of mud so had put on an older pair of running shoes.   It was mostly in the gutters but parts of the sidewalk were covered and in places the whole road was awash.  I was running with a bottle of water in my hand but tried not to sip too fast and get nauseous.  It was not as warm and muggy as it was on Friday, but neither was the air fresh and clear.  I was grateful for the occasional breeze.

I headed for my go-to hill, the one up to Herkimer College (or HCCC as I used to call it) (pronounced “H-triple-C,” although real natives say  it “H-trip”).  I figured there would be less mud as I ran up.  There was plenty near the bottom of the hill.  I was surprised to run into more as I went up.  The road wasn’t coated, but there were a couple of places where a swath of stones and gravel angled across, even close to the top.  I maneuvered around these without too much problem.  Lack of traffic helped.

As I ran across the campus, I felt quite solitary.  I thought I would at least see Campus Security making the rounds, but no.  I did not run into any problems, though, so that was good.  As I was running up the steepest part of the hill, I reflected sadly that it was not becoming easier to run hills; merely, I was practicing my ability to keep going even when it sucks.  When the upslope became a more reasonable angle, it stopped sucking, so I felt better about things.  I ran all the way up, around the athletic fields, and down Reservoir Road.  I would have liked to run on the Nature Trail but feared it would be too muddy after yesterday’s rains.

The back road down was not as bad as I had feared.  That road is being worked on so parts are not as well-paved as one would like.  There is one area where there are plants growing up through the gravel.  I kind of admire the plants’ perseverance.  Life, as they say, will find a way.  One little plant is even growing out of a crack in the pavement.  I can almost hear it saying, “Hey, guys, look at me!  I’m over here!”  I angled around the plant as well as some stones and mud.  I changed my mind a few times about which way to run, based on which choice was less muddy, but I got pretty dirty anyways.

I was in the latter portion of my run when I stopped by the spring to re-fill my water bottle.   The stones and board surrounding the spring had moved somewhat but I managed to get close enough with little problem.  Then I headed home, debating on if my run would be exactly an hour or a little longer.  Longer won.  Then I stopped to chat with a couple of neighbors on my cool-down walk, so I was gone long enough to make Steven wonder a little.  He had expected me to run for exactly an hour, and he had forgotten about my cool-down walk.

I felt pretty damn good about myself and more confident about running the Boilermaker 15K in a week.  I still feel I haven’t run enough, but there isn’t anything I can do about that now.  I guess now is the time to begin feeling nervous about where I’m going to park and how early I ought to get there and will I be able to find my way through the crowd after the race to get my beer.  Oh, swell, now this is turning into Wrist to Forehead Sunday!

 

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A Month and Two Days till the Boilmaker

I did not run for the last two days, so I knew I must run today.  The Boilermaker 15K is a month and two days away and I do not feel ready.  I feel old and creaky.  So I went on a long, challenging run and now I feel — you guessed it — even older and more creaky.  I suppose one will have that when one is, in fact, old and creaky.  However, I planned earlier to make a Running Commentary post, so here it is.

The Mohawk Valley weather gifted us with a beautiful, sunny day today.   It is a day which calls us to spend time outdoors (I say is, because the sun is beckoning me onto the deck as I type this)  (in fact, what am I thinking, being in here?  My laptop has batteries!  I’m going to finish this post outside) (That took a few minutes.  Now where was I?).  I got home and got right into running clothes and out the door as soon as possible.

I knew it would be a good idea to run a hill or two, but all the hills are on the other side of German Street.  Would traffic allow me to cross the street?  I ran toward German and hoped.  Wow, lots of cars.  And my body was NOT in the mood to run.  Oh, my legs were tired, it was not easy to breathe, my back was sore, I was incapable of moving very fast.  However, I WAS capable of moving.  Maybe no hills today.  After all, if I couldn’t cross the street… but maybe now… no, cars kept coming.  Well, if I couldn’t cross the street, I couldn’t feel guilty for not running hills, could I?  Oh, here was an opportunity.  Damn.  Uh, I mean, good!

But which hill to run?  That sun was certainly warm.  I decided to run into Brookfield Park and down the path in the woods, which comes out on the back road up to Herkimer College (HCCC, to long-time locals).  The road goes up as soon as you go into the park.  Oh, that was painful.  It’s not even that long or steep of a hill.  Good God, I only took two days off!  What the hell, body?  It seemed to take a long time to get into the park, but soon I came to the bridge over the brook, which leads to the picnic area beyond which is the path through the woods.  I decided to go beyond it, to the end of the road, then back to it.

The stream babbled towards me, over rocks, moving rapidly and splashing busily.  The recent rains were no doubt having their effect, but it did not look in any danger of flooding.  At the end of the road is a fenced off area.  I could see a path at the edge of the fence, where apparently pedestrians bypass the fence and walk into the woods.  I,  however, did not do so. I had had the damnedest time getting this far; all I could think was that if I could go no further, I did not want to be too far from civilization.

Soon I was headed into the woods, along the path, which also took a long time.  I was not going to go the rest of the way up to the college. I would keep running.  Then I would stop.  Ooh, stopping sounded good.  But I kept going.  Finally I got back onto the road and headed down.  Then I had another idea.  There were a couple of dead end roads that went uphill.  I could run up those and still get some hills in.  I turned right onto the first one.

And realized that it was not exactly a dead end. It led up to the college by the dormitories, a way I have dubbed the kick-butt way.  Well, I did not have to run up the college the kick-butt way, just because I accidentally went on that road.  I could turn around.  I WOULD turn around.

I did not turn around.  Instead, I got my butt kicked.  It is a good idea to get your butt kicked a month and two days before the Boilermaker 15K, I think.  When I ran down the hill from the college, I stopped at the spring and got a drink.  As I ran onto my street, I passed two ladies and a baby on a front porch.  The baby was crying piteously.

“That’s exactly how I feel right now,” I said.  One of the ladies laughed.

I tell you, it was a lousy run, but I ran and I’m glad I did.  Tomorrow I am scheduled to donate blood at a blood drive at my work, so I will probably not run or walk.  And the Boilermaker 15K will be a month and one day away.  Yikes!

 

Memorial Day Musings on a Run in the Rain

I said yesterday I was going to do a hard run today, in honor of fallen soldiers for Memorial Day.  When I got up it was pouring rain, and I was tired.  I don’t usually run in the rain, and it was raining quite heavily.   I really felt too sluggish to do anything.  At last I bestirred myself and went upstairs to put on running clothes with the intention of running in place on the mini-tramp.

As I sought out proper attire, I felt I must run outside in the rain.  Was this a tribute to fallen soldiers or was it not?  How could I justify making things more comfortable for myself?  Maybe I wouldn’t make it for an hour and a minute (the length of my last longest run), but dammit, I was going to run in the rain.  I put on an ARMY t-shirt with a reflective decal on the back.  ARMY for the soldiers, reflective decal for me.  Headlights would catch the decal even in broad daylight, wouldn’t they? Cars should have their headlights on in the rain.  I would be fine.

I headed in the direction of Herkimer College, thinking up that hill would be a good, tough run.  I dodged around and jumped over puddles, eventually landing in one so that my shoes went squish, squish.  I expected that.  I wondered if my plan was a good one.  For one reason, I think the hill I ran up the last time I ran in the suburbs was a longer, steeper one than the one to HCCC (can’t get out of the habit of calling Herkimer College by its old name).  For another reason, I did not think there would be any people up at the college. I like to run where there are people, in case I run into problems.  Suppose I got cramps or sprained an ankle?  I like to think somebody would notice.

“Hey, there’s a crazy old lady, out running and came to grief.  I’ll call 9-1-1.  Better not get to close, though; I hear they’re dangerous when wounded.”

Halfway up the hill, I remembered Campus Safety would probably still be around.  Anyways, I’ve never come to grief running.  I think it’s something my body tells my brain to think about in hopes I will decide to stop running. Soon I was happy for the lack of traffic, because I went out almost to the middle of the lane to avoid a deep puddle.  I didn’t want any more squish in my shoes than I had to have.

Soon I started second guessing my whole “Run for the soldiers” theme.  Who did I think I was, anyways?  Wasn’t I just glorifying myself:  “Oh, look how tough I am, running up the hill in the rain.”  Of course I did not feel particularly tough. I felt wet and old, but oddly good about myself.  Naturally I become suspicious when I start to feel good about myself. I feel I am not the best judge of what I ought to feel good about.

Oh, it took a long way to get to the top.  Did I think this hill was easier than the others I run?  I must be crazy!  But I knew I could make it.  I was running with a bottle of water in one hand but did not feel inclined to take a sip on the steep incline. When I got to the top, I promised myself.  When I got to the top, I kept going across the campus, which I have not done yet this year.  After all, you can cover a lot of ground if you want to keep going for an hour.

Campus was almost deserted.  I saw one car moving and a few empty ones parked. Nobody told me to get off campus, and I enjoyed the solitude.  Things look kind of interesting when they are grey and soggy.  I was pretty grey and soggy myself, and not just my hair; the t-shirt was grey and by now it was soaked through.  I ran all the way around behind the athletic fields to Reservoir Road, which quite frankly seemed a lot longer than the last time I ran it.

I continued my run, moving back and forth between feeling I was making a respectful tribute and wandering what the hell I was thinking.  I also ran the gamut of “this really sucks” to “I LOVE running.”  Sixty-one minutes is a pretty long run.  I finished my water and re-filled the bottle at the spring.  Then I saved the spring water for my husband Steven.  I had left another bottle of tap water on my deck to drink during my cool-down walk.

And that is how I remembered and honored our fallen soldiers on Memorial Day.

 

I Implemented My Plan

I had a plan today.  I was going to come home from work, put a load of laundry in the washer, fold laundry while it washed, then go running while it was in the dryer. Then I would make a Running Commentary blog post.  I boldly typed in the headline, “I Implemented My Plan,”  but in fact, I have not accomplished the last part of my plan, the blog post.  We’ll see how that goes.

There were three laundry baskets plus a pile of clean laundry in our second bedroom, waiting to be folded and put away.  I know some of you industriously fold your laundry as soon as it emerges from the dryer.  I don’t need to hear about that, nor about how easy it really is to do so, how much better it would be for the clothes and my self-esteem, these benefits could be mine if only I exercised the slightest bit of self-discipline… I guess I get a little defensive about these things.

Where was I?  Ah yes, out on the road, running, while my laundry dried. I had not gotten all the clean stuff folded, but I made a good enough dent in it to feel I had accomplished something.  Now for a good long run, to progress toward my Boilermaer 15K and weight loss goals.

It was a warmer day than the last couple of times I ran.  Additionally, I worked a full day.  I have learned that running after a day at work is not nearly as fun as running first thing on a day off.  However, one cannot always run under ideal circumstances.  I made do.

I thought I should run some sort of hill, since I had not run a good one on Sunday’s run (I took Monday off).  But would I be able to cross German Street and get to a good hill?  Traffic was against me.  I immediately felt tired (it is Tired Tuesday, after all) and started thinking of all kinds of good reasons to make it an easy, no-hill run.  Then I found a break in traffic.  Woo-hoo!  Hills it is!

After considering the hill I ran Saturday (immediately rejected that idea), the hill by Valley Health, the hill up to Herkimer College, I thought perhaps the back way up to the college would be OK.  However, as I approached Brookfield Park (previously known in this space as the Unknown Park), I decided to run through the park and into the path in the woods.  I would come out on the back road to the college.  Once I got to the college, if I really felt ambitious by then, I could continue up Reservoir Road, thus going uphill for a very long time.  On the way back down, I could stop at the spring and get a drink.  Now I had another plan I could implement!

Immediately on entering the park I started uphill.  Oof.  I tried to distract myself by composing my blog post in my head.  This is where I had that argument with the imaginary readers who fold their laundry right away.  I think I was a little more articulate in my head, demolishing their logic and putting them firmly in their fussy, tidy, self-disciplined little place.  Of course I don’t remember my words, but let’s pretend they were brilliant.  We’ll pretend some of your words you can’t remember are brilliant too.  It’ll be fun.

I thought briefly of modifying my plan and running into the grassy fields, to see if there was a path up there.  I ran up there one day.  It’s pretty steep.  Running on grass might feel good, since my running shoes have lost much of their gush (I MUST get the the Sneaker Store in New Hartford, NY, and get new ones ) (just to sneak in a shout-out to a local business).  However, I decided to stick to the plan.

Soon I heard faster footsteps coming up behind me.  I felt old, slow and shuffly, but you’ll have that.  A younger woman trotted by me.  We did not greet each other. She had some device strapped to her arm with a chord going to an earphone.  I know some people love to run with their tunes in their ears, but I prefer to be aware of my surroundings.  She soon left me far behind.  When I got to the little bridge over the brook, which leads to the path in the woods, I could not see her at all.  Then I saw her on the path, disappearing around a corner.  Fine.  Maybe she would stop later and walk.  I could catch up with her and feel vindicated. That did not seem likely.  This is why it is a bad idea to compare yourself with others.

It was nice running down the path.  I saw a couple standing in the woods near the water.  Were they fishing?  I didn’t think my puffing and panting would scare the fish.  I didn’t see fishing poles.  Then I saw they had a couple of dogs.  I waved as I went by and the lady waved back.  I did not call out, because I did not want to make the dogs start barking.

At last the road started to slope up, which I knew meant I was almost at the end of it.  Then it went on longer than I remembered.  Isn’t that always the way?  Finally I was on the road to the college.  And not nearly as far along that as I had pictured.  That road was not only longer than I thought, it was steeper.  And I was not in nearly as good shape as I thought I was. Never mind, just keep going.  Every step is a step that will be easier on the Boilermaker, I told myself.  What will I tell myself after the Boilermaker?  Every step is another sip of beer, I answered.  That worked.

I did not continue up Reservoir Road. Finally I was headed back downhill!  I got my drink.  I finished my run.  And look at this blog post!  It is over 1,000 words!  Are they 1,000 good words?  I DON’T KNOW!!!  But it’s Tired Tuesday.  I’ll give this a quick proofread, but I will not edit for length.  If you have stuck with me to the end of this, I thank you. I hope to see you all on Wuss-out Wednesday.

 

Long Run, Long Post

There was a moment on this morning’s run when I did not feel that I was rocking it, yet I suspected I was.  Later on, when I had finished my run and was about to begin my cool-down walk, I felt an impulse to yell, “Yes!  I am Bad! Ass!”  Of course I did not.  It would be the wrong thing to do in a residential neighborhood prior to eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.

I had not run for two days and when I got out of bed this morning, I felt the desire to make it three.  After a cup of coffee I felt a little better about things.  The temperature was 45 degrees, my cut-off temperature for shorts and short sleeves which, as regular readers may recall, I have been thinking about re-thinking but I never feel like doing that much thinking.  So I dithered a little before getting dressed, but eventually got into shorts and short sleeves.  After all, it was supposed to be a long run.  I would have plenty of time to get warmed up.

My run was further delayed by a plumbing problem.  While the toilet was filling it began to make a hideous, loud pounding noise.  Steven turned off the water and got on the phone with our plumber.  I did not know how long the water would remain off so thought it best not to get all sweaty and stinky right away.  I got myself a half slice of the pizza we had sent out for last night and awaited events.

Our plumber, it turned out, is visiting family in New Jersey and won’t return till Tuesday.  However, when Steven described the problem, he said as long as the noise stopped when the bowl was filled, nothing terrible would happen and he would take a look at it on Tuesday. That’s in a nutshell.  I would probably get it wrong if I tried to repeat the whole thing and, anyways, this is Sunday Running Commentary, not a Plumbing Post.

So I decided to run without waiting for the pizza to digest.  I’m always pretty good about waiting an hour or two after eating, but now that I think about it, that’s what they always told us about swimming, not running.  I didn’t know what would happen for running but decided to find out.

I had it in my head to run up to Herkimer College, but as soon as I started running I knew I didn’t feel like doing that.  I was cold, especially my hands.  I was tired.  I was afraid this would not be an especially fun run.  However, I did not feel as utterly incapable of continuing as I had felt on Thursday, so I counted my blessings and headed towards the college.  Before I got to Lou Ambers Drive, I thought of running up the back road to the college.  Not as steep but longer.  That would work.

As I ran through a residential area, I saw my neighbors delivering papers and said good morning.  The wife told me to run a couple of miles for her.

“I will!”  I had no idea how many miles, if any, I would actually run that day, but I wanted to be obliging.

“All right!”

It wasn’t much fun running up the hill, but I tried to appreciate the woods on either side of me.  The little stream to my left laughed at  me as usual.”Look at me, going downhill,” it seemed to say.  “Look how easy this is and how much fun I’m having!  This is the way to go!”  But it was a weird image in my head.  Was the stream talking to me or was it all the little molecules of water talking in unison?  That’s the trouble with anthropomorphizing some things. Anyways, I thought, who wants to go in only one direction?  Wouldn’t you like to decide where to go?  And I thought there might be a profound point to make about how people often want to go in the more difficult direction and have to figure out ways to do it. Man vs. nature, and all that sort of thing.  I was having too much trouble running to come any good conclusions on these thoughts, but these are the things that go through my head sometimes.

At one point I looked ahead and saw how pretty the road looked, curving around to an unknown destination.  I will have to go back with my tablet and get a picture to share with you.  I thought how one might not know where the road went after the curve, so it would make an evocative picture.  However, I knew that once I got around that curve I would be almost at the top of the hill, so I was encouraged.

At last I was there.  Puff, puff.  Running is certainly an effort at times.  I wondered if it was the pizza weighing me down.  However, I did not feel sick to my stomach, so I counted my blessings and kept going.  When the road began to slope down, I felt very happy.  Now all I had to do was move my feet and let gravity take me along.  Then the downgrade got too steep to be really enjoyable.  I leaned back and tried not to jounce myself too much.  I thought of a story my husband Steve tells about how he was running down a hill as a boy and got out of control fast.  That did not happen to me today.

As usual, I calculated in my head a few times if I ran X today, then increased it by 10 percent each week, where would I be at the end of June?  I figure in pretty good shape for the Boilermaker 15K in July.  It was towards the bottom of the hill that I experienced the thought that I was rocking the run while not feeling that I was.  I was soon extremely tired but managed to keep going.

Eventually an odd thing happened.  I still did not feel I was rocking it, but my legs felt pretty good.  They felt supple, warmed up and, well, like legs that were capable of running for a damn long time.  My breathing was a bit labored, but my legs were all, “We cool.”

Now I see I have gone on for over 1,000 words.  I haven’t done a Running Commentary that long in a while!  And how appropriate, since this was my longest run in 2017. Boilermaker, here I come!

 

Now I’m Sitting!

Today I had a run in which every step was either a chore or a misery.  I thought I would write a little about it as encouragement to others because, dammit, I kept going.  One might argue that perhaps my body was trying to tell me something and maybe I should listen.  I answer, when do I ever listen to anybody telling me to stop doing something?  It is against my nature.  In fact, it is a little embarrassing how easily reverse psychology works on me.

I almost did not run at all.  I made one stop on the way home from work which naturally  took longer than expected.  Additionally, it was very warm in the sun.  Perfect weather to sit on the porch.  Warmer than I ideally like to run in.  However, things will only get warmer as we get into summer, so I might just as well get used to it.  At least a nice breeze was blowing.

Finding running clothes and putting a load of laundry in took a few minutes, but eventually I was on my way.  A couple was sitting on the porch of the house next door.  We exchanged greetings.

“That’s what I want to be doing,” I said.  It sure was.  I envied all the other porch-sitters I saw as I ran, of which there were a lot.

I had it in my head to do a long run, because I may not get to run Friday or Saturday.  I even thought of running up the hill to Herkimer College.  The heavy traffic on German Street discouraged me from that, because I would have had to cross it at some point, then cross back.  As I continued to put one foot in front of the other, it was brought home to me that my body was not the least bit inclined to run up such a hill anyways.  In short, I did not rock this run.

My legs hurt, my feet hurt, I forgot how to breathe.  I said that sentence as I was narrating in my head (as I like to do when running), then I asked myself, How do you forget to breathe?  You can’t forget to breathe!  Was I breathing?  Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale.  I did not have a Vocal Chord Dysfunction episode, but I just felt I was not getting the oxygen I needed.  Apparently I was, though, because I kept going.  After all, without sufficient oxygen you die, or at least pass out.  You don’t keep running, however slowly.

And it was a slow, slow run.  How in the world was I ever going to run the Boilermaker 15K?  I didn’t want to run at all! I haven’t wanted so badly to stop running since I first started running in Army Basic Training twenty years ago (oh my God, it WAS twenty years ago!).  However, I did not stop running.  I continued.  And I pointed out to myself that I was continuing.  I find it helpful to remind myself how much it can suck and I can still keep going.

I ended my run going up my street on the opposite side from my house.  I ran by the house to the end of the street, crossed the street, and ran back to my house.  It was quite the triumph to keep going that long.  As I passed our neighbors, they were still sitting on the porch.

“You need to sit down,” the lady called to me.

“Ain’t that the truth!”  I shouted back.  I got home, grabbed my bottle of water and walked around the block for my usual cool-down. Oh did it ever feel good to walk!  However it did seem to take a long time to get around the block today.  At long last I passed our neighbors’ house again.  As I hoped, they were still sitting outside.

“Now you’re walking,” the man observed.

I pumped a fist in the air as I answered, “I ran!  I walked!  Now I’m going to shower! And I’m going to sit!”  We all laughed.

 

 

A Triumph, Or Do I Flatter Myself?

Is it as much of a triumph if, on the way to your goal, you inwardly grumbled and fussed and wished yourself elsewhere?  Or does that make it more of a triumph, that you overcame your own resistance and fought the enemy that was you?

Another philosophical question:  does it matter much if I do another post about running so soon?

The questions in the first paragraph occurred to me in the middle of this morning’s run.  I made it up the hill to Herkimer College (formerly referred to as HCCC), the first time I have done so in a while.  Even getting on the road was something of a triumph, because my first thought on getting out of bed was, “Thank God I ran yesterday when I didn’t want to, because now it won’t be so bad if I don’t run again till tomorrow.”  A cup of coffee helped me change my mind.

It was 46 degrees, according to my thermostat, one degree over my limit for shorts and short sleeves.  I had been going to rethink that rule, but I could not be bothered with thinking this morning.  I found stuff to wear and got out the door.  I soon lamented my cold hands but comforted myself with the thought that I would not try to write anything for a while after the run.

I had told Steven I might run up to HCCC, but I wouldn’t guarantee it.  As a friend of mine said once, “I don’t make plans, promises or excuses.”  I could have expounded for a while on that excellent rule, but I only would have been stalling my run, so I did not.  Instead I ran toward German Street  and turned myself in the direction of the college.  I could not see any alternative to running up that hill.  I had to do it sooner or later, I thought.  The longer I put it off, the worse it would be.  I realize that, logically speaking, that is not strictly true (do I really need both those adverbs in that sentence?  I do tend to overdo it with the adverbs).  If I kept increasing my run time, and kept running other hills (of which there are not that many in Herkimer), it would get easier not harder to run up one particular hill.  But as I said earlier, I could not be bothered with a lot of thinking this morning.

Besides, I wanted to feel bad-ass.

Going up that hill was not fun.  Looking ahead didn’t help.  Looking down at my feet didn’t help.  Looking back at how far I came helped a little bit, since I didn’t do that till I was more than half-way up.  I tried to distract myself by looking at the green on the bushes and some of the trees to the left and right of me.  I do like to see the green.  I did not see any deer or other critters.  A couple of cars went by, also headed up the hill, but I did not try to hitch a ride.  They probably would not have stopped in any case.

At last, at last, I was at the top!  I wanted to put my arms over my head and make fists, although there was nobody nearby to sing, “We Are the Champions”  (regular readers may recall that at the end of a difficult run, I enjoy to walk around with my fists in the air while somebody sings, “We Are the Champions,” if I can get anybody to do so).   I just kept running normally, though, looking forward to the downhill part of my run.

I upped my time by the recommended 10 percent, so I felt pretty pleased about that.  Then I had a hot flash while I was stretching, so a cool shower felt really good.  I used good-smelling soap and lotion (white gardenia, my favorite), so I could feel pretty. Even us bad-ass runners like to feel pretty sometimes. I meant to make my Running Commentary post soon after my run, and perhaps include more of my observations and philosophical thoughts.  Then again, I’ve approaching 700 words.  That is pretty long for me. And I have a murder mystery to get ready for.  Happy Saturday, everyone.