run this amazing day

The last thing I felt like doing after all the events of last week was racing. The week before the race didn't feel like a normal taper.  I wasn't crabby and crazy and finding mysterious injuries everywhere, I didn't give up something essential in my diet, and I did not almost get divorced.  The only noticeable difference in my life was that with only one workout to do most days, I slept in and then felt blah and had crazy hair until lunchtime.  I spent the entire week not wearing a watch or a strap or looking at a clock, and I had almost no desire to complete workouts with everything else that was going on.  I floated through the week feeling meh.  No pre-race anxiety, no stressing about times or distances, just meh. Saturday morning I flew down to New Orleans, where it was sunny and full of palm trees and 70+ degrees out.  That helped.  I picked up my tiny rollerskate of a rental car and drove to Heidi's house (best race host ever, by the way) with the windows do

I don't have anything new to say. Nothing profound, nothing moving, nothing more than what is merely an echo of what is being said by thousands of others this morning. I may or may not even hit publish, and if I do, I will know that it is likely because I am just trying to make myself feel better.  I am searching for comfort that I don't even understand why I need. I'm not sure why this has affected me more than the dozens of other tragic events that have filled our world over the past few years.  Maybe it's because I lived in Boston for a while, but I don't think that's it.  Maybe it's because I stood in the exact spot that is being circled on maps and infographics, two years ago, myself cheering for loved ones.  But I don't think that's it either.  The poet pointed out that had he been running, the time on the clock would have been his and I would have been there on the sidelines, and his voice shook when he said it.  And I had a pretty bad t

This was never going to be a race. When my fellow ponies asked Sonja if we could do this - a half marathon in our backyard - she said yes but cackled evilly while letting us know that we'd be running it on tired legs, and I vaguely recall a threat of getting on our bikes instead of going out to brunch afterwards (these are our grumpy faces). The theme of the past month, for me, has been a generally manageable kind of tired.  I started to notice it in the weeks before Yasi came out to visit - I'm feeling worn out from the work, yes, but I also feel like I am absorbing it well.  No particular workout or day had really dumped me into a big hole.  Rather it was just day after day of steady and continuous loading.  As the days went on, I started to wonder when it would come - the CRRAAAAAAACCKKKKK as I fell off the ledge (foreshadowing here) into exhausted psychosis. So for this sucker, there was no taper or rest or anything leading up to this, it was simply a supported long

Last week we had quite a bit of sunny weather.  While I was working from home one morning, I left the back door open and the puppies went out and laid around in the sunshine. After realizing how happy they were, we decided to put in a dog door.  We can gate them into the kitchen/back part of the house so they can't get into too much trouble, and they can go outside whenever they want to.  As soon as they figure out how to get through the door... Completely unrelated, I've been worried that I have a bit of a sugar addiction lately.  Not so much candy and crap, but more the evil secret sugars that everybody hates on for sneaking into all of your food.  This weekend, I discovered how to break that addiction.  I made this for Easter (no, my hair was not combed but at least it was clean, thanks). I had less than one slice and three days later, still have absolutely no interest in eating any sugar or a peep or really anything but green vegetables.  Maybe ever again. In othe