To the Northeast, these slightly greyed pastels,
so very soothing. . .
even with the freighter's contrasting heavy darkness . . .
After I gathered these sea- and sky-scapes for your appreciation, I headed out for my last -- and peak -- long run before the Half Marathon I'll be running next weekend (this weekend we'll be at the opera. . . more on that later). I had some misgivings about this run, because I'm a bit later than I should be with the 20-kilometre distance; most running guides have someone my age tapering for at least two weeks before the race, so I'm stretching a bit. But I goofily decided to do some extra stairwork on Saturday, which meant I was too sore to risk a long run, Sunday, and I pushed it off 'til today.
What I was really pleased to find is that despite my qualms, I had a well-paced and reasonably comfortable run, no weak spots squawking too loudly as I added round to round -- it takes five circuits of the island to get the distance I need, but at least I can stop at home to hydrate and to discard extra garments as I warm up.
Over the past 4-6 weeks, I've had a few scares -- left-foot Achilles, right knee, left hip, all the usual suspects -- but each time, I've paid attention after with stretching, icing, resting, and, occasionally, an Advil or two. I've "listened to my body" but also pushed it a little, and I realized, joyfully, today, that I've got a solid foundation I seem to be able to count on. Not surprising, I guess, given that I've built it carefully over a fairly long period. This will be my third Half Marathon in less than a year (the early two were last May, then November) and while I wouldn't have done this one if it hadn't been for these guys (thanks, sistahs!), I'm thrilled to be enjoying this fitness level. . .
Today, running in the sunshine,
bumping into that wealth of endorphins that greets me at around 12 or 14K . . .
life is truly good . . . . Pater's making curried chicken for dinner (one of Vij's recipes, yumm!) and he's got a batch of bread rising by the woodstove. . . my appetite's well whetted . . .