We are all looking forward to another Fox vacation (holiday) report, hopefully here rather than the evening news! It’s such a treat to run in a different location, challenging the mind and body. Send pictures, be sure to pack the Gorilla Tape…and if you run too far or too long, I am sure a flower shop is just around the corner.
So right on the reminder that this life is no rehearsal for the next. While we haven’t an inkling about the whats and ifs of life beyond this, we are most surely alive right now. Running gives one a continuous cycle of joyously breaking away from the tangible force of gravity before the split second is over, and bone, muscle, and skin crash back to Earth. It is sensorial, exhausting, and exhilarating, leaving the the runner feeling the joy and pain of immortality and mortality all at the same time.
Admittedly, running was also the only selfish treat I clung to during the years my daughter was critically ill. The nurses in the hospital afforded me (against protocol) an hour to run every day, and I attribute those miles to helping me to stay strong enough to help her persevere.
Today, that remarkably resilient young lady joined me on five miles of forested trails. Watching her lithely push onward and upward was indescribably satisfying…and before I knew it, we had reached our version of the finish line. She’s alive, I’m alive and so we run…
My last bowl of porridge for a while - A full Welsh Breakfast awaits me for the next seven days - and in just less than one hour I’ll be starting off on our 150 mile drive. Which is always one of the highlights for me…:-D…I guess I was just born to travel, be it on foot, bike or vehicle…
I can sympathise with your plight while nursing your poorly daughter Surfermom and what a glorious outcome for her to be running by your side. In those dark days while laying in a hospital bed following my Heart Attack, I read books about the adventures of past fell runners, and I was never in any doubt that I would soon be running in their footsteps over those cold rugged steep and wild hills.
Adios for now Mrs Fox is growing impatient…:shock:
OGF, is most likely scanning the Welsh countryside for tomorrow’s run while the rest of us settle for familiar paths and roadways. No complaints here though! To make up for the caloric and fat intake of full breakfasts, one would have to run marathons each day. I hope he packed comfortable shoes . Ah, well, I suppose that with his regimen he has well-earned some epicurean delights… Have fun, OGF!
Thankfully, weekends come here to the U.S. too , and in anticipation of dining out this evening, I added another mile to the distance. As no good effort goes unpunished, I was caught in a torrential downpour, and then sighted by every neighbor on the block. Ah yes, soaking locks, drenched clothing, and squeaky-drenched shoes. I hope that glass of wine or rich dessert is worth it…;-). http://www.sherv.net/cm/emoticons/eating/eating-a-whole-cake-smiley-emoticon.gif
Summer is still hanging on tight on the gulf coast, and while it makes for cool, relaxing swimming, it does challenge the six-mile runner trudging her way in the soft sand beneath a searing sun. No complaints though, as the jeweled tones of the sea and sky against the sugar sands were visual candy to distract one from the pains of a late morning run.
Actually, I take that back. I do have complaints as the tourists, seen here along the shoreline, were making all sorts of racket with their laughing and riotous picnicking on silvery minnows, causing me to give them wide berth so as to allow them their joyful feasting. In appreciation for my lack of disturbance, they cackled out their noisy thanks and hellos as I made my way past. Room for everyone, I say!
Those tourists had probably heard about the legend of Surfermom, and as the word had spread they had flown in to support you on your run…Catering had even been laid on making this quite a social event…
Ha, ha, OGF…I hope you noticed in my post…that those “tourists” were laughing…probably at me :-)!
This afternoon I ran a long stretch of road near my house and to the local sportsplex where the high school junior varsity (American) football team was playing. The school staffs the game with an ambulance in the event a player is hurt, and as I ran along one particularly narrow stretch, the approaching ambulance followed me closely until the road opened up for them to pass safely. http://www.sherv.net/cm/emoticons/jobs/emt-smiley-emoticon.gif
Eventually, I caught up to it again, where it was parked for the game. As one of the paramedics exited the vehicle, I called out that my running must be awfully bad for the city to assign an ambulance to follow me everywhere. http://www.sherv.net/cm/emoticons/sick/stretcher-smiley-emoticon.gif The quick-witted young driver called back that it was hardly the case, and that I was instead, trying to put him out of work :-D!
That said, it was hot enough for me to need medical care today - 90 F. 32.2 C. No unhappiness here, though. Somehow I feel like I have been a bit victorious when I look down at my watch, blinking through the perspiration, to check the total mileage. Since it’s still hot, and I ran that far, I deserve a bit of ice cream, do I not?
Today’s entry in the saga of Mother Nature’s determination to finish me off started with a morning spent in the backyard. While those in the UK romantically go out to “garden”, I “chop”, looking something akin to Katherine Hepburn in The African Queen by the time I am through. As this place grows like a jungle, I am forever cutting back the vines, shrubs, volunteer river oaks, and myrtles that are forever trying to consume the house. I was proud of my productivity until I noticed a strange, growing, itching rash creeping up my forearm…
While it required a good amount of exertion (and a whole lot of hydrocortisone), it was not an official workout, so I drug my daughter off to exercise class. There we flung about three pound weights to disco music, while going up and down on aerobic steps. There was a fair amount of unappreciated laughing between us trying to keep up with instructor whom I’m fairly sure was an Olympian in training, but we felt vindicated when we were still breathing after an hour.
Not to rest on our laurels, if one could call survival “laurels”, we rounded out the evening with a five mile run. We maneuvered a grass course that requires somewhat more concentration than I like, as I am forever sure I am about to sprain an ankle, but it was well worth it to be out in the amber cast of the setting sun.
We bought one of those large Exercise Balls for the Dog to chase round the Garden. I’ve just inflated it (a workout in itself) and just had a go on it, good for sit-ups etc, thinks I’ll keep it for myself, sorry Dog.
While the evenings are still warm, the sportsplex lights shine for community softball and soccer teams, make a rare evening run possible. With few insects and fewer vehicles, I decided to remain true to the long shadows and longer evening with a respectable (for me) seven miles. Alternating between patches of light and darkness, I had to depend more on the feel of the road and sounds around me as they became more acute. In a matter of minutes, my breathing and feet striking pavement had me considering two performance factors to which I rarely attend - a lighter strike and breath control. Oh yes, I paid dearly for my lack of focus over the last months and in six miles I was huffing, puffing, and laboring terribly, but undeterred, I found my second wind and managed that last mile with a sense of minor victory. I finished the run, ran into no trees, fell into no holes, and was unscathed by mosquitos and night drivers. Yesss… http://www.pic4ever.com/images/greenstars.gif
Today was all a rush to join friends to watch American football. While I am not a diehard fan, it does make for an enjoyable afternoon, though I dread all the seductive snacks and treats. With that in mind, my daughter and I ran a soild preemptive five miles, made cool by the anvil’s overhang from a faraway thunderstorm.
Goal achieved, I was about to leave the house when one of the dogs ran off, resulting in an unexpected bike ride to find the four-legged escape artist. It was fast and furious enough that I had to start my from scratch with another shower so as not to frighten the football fans with my road-worn appearance.
While I missed some of the game, half of the tempting food was gone, and I could afford to have a rare glass of cabernet. Plus, I got my dog back safe and sound.
I seem to have been overcome with a sore throat, so I set off on my usual eight mile run yesterday morning with the intention of cutting it down to a six if needs be. The first couple of miles were certainly a struggle with no energy and still some stiffness left in my legs from last weeks encounter with Mount Snowdon.
Upon reaching decision time after three miles, I don’t know why, but I instinctively turned the corner at the junction and took the eight mile option and by the time I had reached the six mile mark all was well. The last mile proved troublesome and the time was embarrassing, but nevertheless, run done until the next one on Tuesday.
Surfermom…While on holiday in Llandudno the window in our room faced North, and one of the mornings as I looked out of the window before going for a run at around 5:30am laid out in the still dark sky was the Plough, and just to the right (sort of North East) was a very bright star indeed, what do you think it could have been?
Sorry to hear that you brought home an irritating sore throat from your trip. Perhaps you should have considered bringing home the sort of souvenirs that Mrs. OGF found in the shops Landudno shops instead :-D.
More later, as I am off on a bit of a break myself, but I suspect that the “star” you saw might have been Venus. I believe it would have been slightly right (NE) and towards the horizon from Ursa Major from your vantage point.
Thanks for your concern Surfermom…
And thanks for your prediction. The star was very big and bright and you are probably right about it being Venus. It’s been a bit too cloudy to see it since…:shock:
Getting back to today’s challenge…I felt better this morning as I rose for my Tuesday eight, my sore throat had subsided as I presented myself out onto the street into what was a misty mild morning. It was all going well at first, all the usual first mile stiffness and lethargy, but I knew that in just another mile everything would be up to speed and working like a well oiled clock…
Well it wasn’t was it…After starting off at the bottom it went all downhill from there, and by the time I reached two miles It felt like the last six on a marathon. My decision to just do a six instead was justified when at four miles the overwhelming flood of tiredness forced me to stop and take a walk, something I don’t ever remember doing before.
I continued my journey half running and walking until I arrived back in the village where appearances forbid me to walk while dressed only in shorts and tee shirt. Although nothing hurts and I don’t feel too bad, I’ve put it down to the infection that’s sapping all my energy and will give it another go on Thursday…But it sure felt weird…
It was a noble effort to get out there in the first place, OGF considering that you went into it with some miserable viral symptoms. I have pushed through colds before and although exercise might speed up healing - it’s more likely that exercise simply distracts from the irritants of a cold.
For a seasoned and dedicated runner, walking is frustrating but you are very wise to listen to your body and take it easy. You know the recipe - rest, vitamin C, tea, good food, and some TLC from Mrs. OGF :-).
Feeling fit as fiddle here, I opted for an early morning run today, something I rarely do before the sea breezes start in the early afternoon. The consequence of that decision was a six mile endeavor that was quite challenging in the stifling heat. Even so, my journey had me meandering through suburban streets and parks along with other morning joggers, intrepid retirees, and busy young mothers.
The roadside flora today’s outing was a mix of native palmettos, lanky pines, and scrub oaks, interspersed with heartly oleander and bougainvillea in riotous shades of pink and red. Instead of lawn grass, most gardeners and homeowners opt for native sea oats and fountain grass that grow tall but need little fertilization. Because fertilizers drain into the waterways they create algael blooms and the resulting jellyfish swarms, xeriscaping is encouraged that results appreciation for a different kind of beauty.
All that preoccupation with plants along with admiration for the dancing damsel and dragon flies that escorted me well through each mile, time and distance went by quickly, and now I can head to the beach in hopes that the gulf is offering a surfable wave or two. Sitting here too long though, I am feeling stiff and tight, so it’s time to do a few yoga stretches and wax the board.
With great trepidation I jogged off sheepishly early this morning. It was only just light and last nights heavy (and I mean heavy!) rain had passed over and left a warm moist sticky feel to the morning air. It’s not very often that I don’t look forward to a run, but I was hoping that it wouldn’t be a repeat of Tuesday’s disappointment when my energy deserted me and I had to cut it short.
I needn’t have worried, although not a strong run, it was eight miles, and it was continuous. The sore throat that’s been hounding me for the last week or two has completely disappeared and this morning’s run turned out to be most enjoyable.
I am proud of you efforts, OGF. When I had meniscus surgery five years ago, after a very amusing and un-cooridnated fall, I was so trepidacious about running again that I rode my bicycle ten miles deep into a trail to test my “new” knee. I went where no one would see me, fully aware that it was a now-or-never moment - I would try to run. I set the lofty goal of a tenth of a mile, and it would forever determine my futurre. If I couldn’t run, I would accept it and find a new sport - cycling, walking, whatever.
I pulled my little blue bike off to the side of the trail, leaned it against a scrub oak tree, did a little stretching, and with a deep breath, I took my first step. Somehow, I took my second, and then a third. It hurt, it took pure will, but I finished that tenth of a mile. I don’t think that in all of my sporting life, I ever felt so accomplished. It was a run, a day, that I will never forget.
One day, we all hang up our running shoes, but five years late, I am fortunate to be back out there, waging a game against nature and my aging body. In the end, nature will reclaim me into dust or ashes, but for the few moments that I was on this precious earth, I accepted the gift of all that life had to offer - torn meniscus or not.
So, in this very wordy response, you have me cheering for your outing today. Life is surely good, OGF, and congratulations for seizing your slice of it.
You are a strong willed woman Surfermom and I had to smile when reading your comments, how different our upbringings have been, separated by gender, distance, and culture yet we are the same in so many things.
Thank you for your admiration, although sometimes I wonder if it is justified, but it sure puts a spring in my step…
After an early Heart Attack (in his fifties) My father suffered with angina in his later years. So following my Heart Attack (in my fifties) the general feeling was, that despite being fitter and slimmer I had perhaps inherited some of my father’s imperfections. I realised that if I developed angina, my running would come to an abrupt end. So some months later I did my own test. Armed with my GTN spray (in case things got out of hand) I selected a mile long route alongside the canal and sprinted as fast as I could. My legs turned to rubber and my lungs gasped for air but still I carried on, I was almost staggering when my legs could hardly keep pace, my running style was shot to pieces as I wandered, first left and then right across the path, but still I pushed as hard as I could. And then the small kissing gate at the end of my challenge appeared and I almost fell into it as I clung on and with wide open mouth and pounding heart tried to replace the air to my aching lungs…I was still alive and didn’t need the spray…It restored my confidence and laid the foundation for future running…But I had to know…
That’s a great story, and it is particularly meaningful on this forum. When do we test our limits and when do we not? I’m sure your confidence soared after that run-to-failure outing.
This last week afforded me some beach and climbing runs in a more isolated part of Florida where isolated sugary dunes anchored by scrub oaks soar two stories high. I realized after awaking the second day of trail running with sore quads and calves, that I’ve been in need of this sort of challenge.Why, I thought lying there and stretching here and there, are the physiological processes that cause muscle depletion so easily as we age? Answering that question will lead to some interesting reading in my future.
What is most exciting right now is that the blue sky and beaches are thick with monarch butterflies preparing for their migration. They gather on the shores for weeks, dining on milkweed nectar while they await the northerly winds that will help them make the 3,500 mile trip across the Gulf of Mexico. Once there, every last one gather on Oyamel fir trees within a single 135 acre forest. Amazing!
While they dance and flutter along the shoreline like clouds of giant snowflakes, one can’t help but feel humbled with a short five mile run. Even so, the sun is setting allowing the temperatures to cool and allowing my wingless body to make the labored trek…
. Ah, well, I suppose that with his regimen he has well-earned some epicurean delights… Have fun, OGF!
, and in anticipation of dining out this evening, I added another mile to the distance. As no good effort goes unpunished, I was caught in a torrential downpour, and then sighted by every neighbor on the block. Ah yes, soaking locks, drenched clothing, and squeaky-drenched shoes. I hope that glass of wine or rich dessert is worth it…;-).
