Reflecting, training, tracking

Obligatory reflection sentence: It’s been about a year since I started this blog. Is it what I wanted, how I planned it? It could be more, it could be better. Can’t most things?

Christmas morning, in the city I grew up in, I left the house, thinking it was going to be warmer than home. It wasn’t. I picked a simple loop. Past a house that my 10th grade boyfriend lived in. Past the tree that I hit when I flipped over my bike handles. Past the fire hydrant I backed into, past where my first kiss was. It was cold, and Christmas. A city, normally filled with people, was empty. It was cold, and early. I saw no other runners, no people rushing to the train for work, no cars at the convenance store. I’m running more in the cold, and without headphones. I listen to my breath. I listen to my feet, I listen to the gasping, and the squeaking, and, on this particular day, the stream of memories. The ox and lamb kept time.

21 days until the first snow shoe race, I’m signed up for all three.

15 races completed in 2013.

Bring on 2014!


racing, thanking, shifting

Race report, MTC Turkey Trot (presented by the maine running company) (cause sponsors are great!)

Started well. Cold. cold. then windy. Wished I had on warmer tights, or shorts over my tights, or my down comforter wrapped around me, as i read the latest Jack Reacher.

The horn blared. I hit start on my watch. it flashed 88:88:88, indicated that it thought it was January 1, 2006, and off we went. Ok. No watch for this one. Whatever. I’ll just run by feel (famous last words). Mile 1: oh, it’s over already? clock said 9:53. i’ll take it.

Girls with water — and spoons. Why spoons? oh, to break the ice, because it’s 20 degrees. great. Yes, I think I will stop and drink some ice, because i’ve run almost 1.5 miles, in 20 degree weather, and clearly it’s time for a break.

mile 2 – sign: there it is, now i know we’ll turn onto Scott Dyer, there will be a hill, and then it will be over. Race desires picking up, feel like shedding a layer. Will catch up with Tami, and cruise to a nice finish, and then i’ll go inside. Inside, where the wind is missing, and people will shower me with hot chocolate, and patagonia warmth. Wait. Running. Right! a nice chat with the brother in law of the race director (sorry, I forget your name). WIND, wind wind. I see the hill. Trail monsters don’t think that’s a hill. I laugh in the face of hills. A ha. I’m at the top of the hill. Thanks volunteers!

Nice job Paul as you pass me, yes, it’s chilly! Wait. What is this? Is this another hill? But i thought there was only one? ok. Trail monsters don’t think that’s a hill. I laugh in the face of hi… why am I standing still? Hey (she shouts to herself, in the middle of a race, on a small hill, in 20 degrees, as people stream by her) STOP standing still. GO RUN. Find the next gear. Shift it into the next gear. (i have standard automobile, it’s amazing how many times a day I shift). SHIFT.

Why aren’t I shifting? Check in time: Legs- ready to shift. Brain- ready to shift. Heart: Why didn’t we shift 15 minutes ago? Lungs: NO SHIFTING ALLOWED. TAKING IN COLD AIR. SHIFT VETO’D. Brain and Lungs went back and forth for a while, with brain trying to circumvent lungs, and speed up legs. Lungs won.

Then the jacket became the most annoying thing in all the land, and I had to unzip it, and tie it around my waist. Then around my neck like a cape, then in one hand, then in 2. then Ian was there, and sensed the annoyance, saw the pleading in my eyes as I “raced” towards him (think that scene in a Fish Called Wanda with the steam roller – you know the one that was moving .1 mile per hour). He took the jacket, and said something along the lines of SHIFT, but in a supportive way. Lungs still vetoed this plan. I couldn’t see the finish line. I didn’t know how long my last minute push could last, and if it ended 50 feet short of the finish line, I would be sad.

Then I high-fived Victoria, dressed as the turkey so I could have the racing time. Then I finished. It was glorious that the running was over.