Sundays = The Long Run

Beautiful sights from Sunday’s run:

I can’t tell you what joy it is to see all the flowers and blossoms bursting through the grey of winter! Such gorgeous scenery! So much more beautiful than cars, sidewalks & smog…

When I first started running I would never, ever have stopped to take pictures of anything. I smugly regarded stopping as a sign of weakness, as many misguided newbies do. Now I just love lugging my point & shoot along with me, even if it is a bit of a pain sometimes. It is so challenging to be still and not shiggle my arms or the camera.

I sometimes feel silly calling Sundays my long run, after all, it is such a subjective adjective! Yesterday was a 12-miler, as per my handy-dandy training plan. For some, 12 miles sounds undoable, for others, a 12-mile day is considered an easy day. Running is so personal.

I was feeling a wee bit tired yesterday. The almost constantly-gray sky and falling rain didn’t help me much, but when I saw this apparition of what looked like cotton candy from afar, it helped me forget the bleak feeling in my feet and my spring bounced back:

I’ve been running through the forest surrounding our city for nearly a year and a half, but have only been venturing on the trails for about two months. Before that I stayed on the more cyclist-friendly tar paths. I felt a bit intimidated running so far into the woods alone, knowing my cell phone wouldn’t work with any reliability and that no one really knew where I was (Mr. Fish always has a vague idea thanks to Map My Run but the trails aren’t always well indicated). On the tar paths I would feel reassured as I would often happen upon hikers, cyclists, and sometimes other runners. Now I am just addicited to the uneven paths and crazy “where-is-my-footing” trails. I am most assuredly humbled as I can feel the added difficulty as my body tries to stabilize. It is slowing me down, but building me up!