About the Blog
If you can fill the unforgiving minute ... with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run ... Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it.
What I Write About
This website, including photos and words, is copyright 1997 - 2011 by Jenny Goellnitz. If you would like information on using materials in this website, please contact me. (I grant permission pretty freely, so please ask and don't just take.)
Monthly Archives: June 2011
That is all. :)
It is a gray dawn. The fog hangs thick and blots out the bright light of the sun. The morning is cool, fortunately. I walk down the stairs. The crazy house sparrow that has built a nest underneath the porch overhang makes his usual chattering “escape” to the nearby maple tree. He lets out a few angry chirps and glowers at my presence, waiting impatiently for me to move out of what he considers to be his territory. It is always the male who leaves the nest to scold me. I suppose the female has decided it is better to let him do the complaining at the interloper while she stays safely ensconced in the nest.
I walk past the irritated sparrow and down a short slope to the end of my driveway. How many runs have I started here? In all weather, in all seasons? I push the start button on my watch. Will this run be sixty minutes of bliss? A struggle? Something in between? It’s impossible to know at the moment you push start and begin to run. But I tend to run well on foggy mornings, or at least if not “well,” then it at least feels effortless.
My pace has been off this summer. I don’t know why. Last summer, I was running more miles and my pace tended to be around 8:20. This summer my pace has tended to be closer to 8:40. Twenty seconds. Maybe not a lot off, but enough off though that I wonder about it.
Fortunately, I’ve mellowed considerably as far as becoming stressed by bad runs and slower than usual paces. They used to send my mind hurtling towards one bad conclusion: relapse. Now, my mind seems much more likely to conclude I’m probably still somewhat fatigued from running a hilly marathon less than two months ago.
Still the specter of relapse is there – it’s just not as looming and as omnipresent as it once was. I think I will always wonder whether I’m running slower for the normal reasons runners tend to find themselves off the pace or for much more sinister, abnormal reasons. It’s just that now the prospect of the worst is a mere whisper, not a horrible scream. I guess what they say is true: time heals -- or at least scabs over -- all wounds, no matter how deep and how penetrating.
True to past form, it ends up being a good run morning as I run through the fog. There is just something neat about running in and out of the dense miasma of the fog – of watching the rear lights of the cars suddenly enveloped in the thick clouds, of seeing the approaching headlights suddenly appear from a distance, of seeing the occasional other runner suddenly materialize out of the misty gray dawn.
A good morning to be a runner lost in the fog.
Just an update to let people know I am still here. I haven't written very much the past few weeks because there hasn't been much to say about running. I'm still running, albeit not well. I've decided I will NOT be running a full marathon in the fall -- I'd like to save some $$, and I don't think I am running well enough anyway right now. Nothing seems wrong, per se, I'm just not feeling it. I've still been averaging between 50 and 60 miles per week and I'm out running every day before dawn -- I just don't want to do 3 hour plus runs right now.
My goal for September is the Cleveland Clinic Sports Health River Run, a half-marathon. Beyond that, I plan to do another fall half-marathon ... My guess is it will most likely be Towpath, although I would consider something else within one to two hours of home in lieu of running Towpath again.