It's a Week

Stats: 17.6 mi; 198 min; 2832 cal

That's Week One in the bag. 


I missed a day, June 11, with my friends in town. Saturday. Should have been easy, but it just wasn't. Every time I tried to clear a half hour for my run, something came up. It's a good lesson, though, because that's the sort of thing that can happen. I don't want to fall into a trap of making up miles with longer runs, either, because that will be too handy an excuse, and eventually the miles will pile so high that I skip the whole endeavor. So instead I just skipped Saturday. Which is fine. It's fine because I ran Sunday. Another big step: running after I miss a day. Technically, my goal is six days per week, and I accomplished that. But I have to look at it from the perspective of running everyday I can. And Saturday was a good example of why. If I'd taken a day off earlier just to be lazy, I still wouldn't have been able to run on Saturday. And I'm the type of person who requires a certain critical mass to accomplish things. I wish I had a better sense of how much mass is required for various tasks so I could harness that knowledge and turn it into productivity. Maybe I'll look into that.


So June 12 I was back, running in Michigan, where I stayed a few days with friends and family. I ran along the lake, and did 3.2 miles each of yesterday and today. Yesterday I ran with my friend; this morning I ran with my brother. They're each in much better shape than I am, but slowed down to be charitable. 


People were nicer running along the lake in Michigan. More smiles, more waves. My legs were tight, but I think it will get better soon. This will be a rough patch, physically, as I push through and teach my body what I expect of it. My muscles whine, but respond. Once in a while I will feel a line of tightness, like someone is pulling on a string connected to a specific part of my calf or hamstring, but it passes after just a few strides. 


This morning I went earlier than usual, before 6am. I chased my shadow out, then turned and let it chase me back as I ran almost directly into the sun. The hills are more gradual out here, but it definitely affects my body running on different terrain. It's a different routine, and harder to prepare for, mentally, just because I don't know the surfaces as well. So as I felt my way down the road, my brother trotted along behind me. My cardiovascular health is a bit of a mess. My heart rate was down today, but my breathing felt labored and off. Still, it was a beautiful morning. The lake was dark, the sky was gray, the leaves glowed a light bright green, and the horizon along the lake was huge and perfectly clean, perfectly straight. Though not perfectly straight. It's a trick of the eyes. When you see the horizon along the lake, you must be able to see enough mileage to see the curvature of the Earth (which is bigger than you'd think). But the line doesn't seem to curve. The ancient Greeks noticed this, and when they built the steps to their temples, the raised them slightly in the middle so they they looked straight even though they weren't. They'd discovered that a straight line, viewed from a distance, actually looks like it dips in the middle.


We ran by a deer this morning, also, right in someone's front yard. Had to pass within 15 feet of it, and it didn't do more than look at me and bend an ear. My brother didn't see it. It was on beach when we passed it on our way back. My brother waved and said "Good morning," like he had to everyone else we'd passed. He's a funny kid.