Going Downhill

So, after my three mile run last week I was what one would call less than enthusiastic about heading out to run five miles on Sunday morning.  There are so many other things that I would rather be doing.   Quite frankly, there are a lot of things that I typically don’t like doing that sounded better to me than going for a run  (Washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.)  But, I went anyway.  

It had rained here on Sunday morning and there was still some cloud cover.   As those of you who previously followed my blog know, I do not like running in the rain.   That was motivation for getting out the door, -- getting the run in before it started again.  

I started off on my usual route, which is a gentle incline heading up into Bronson Canyon Park.  At the entrance to the park the incline steepens, then a little further up it steepens again.   That is exactly the point I decided to turn around.    If I turned around and went straight home I would have only run four miles on a day when I committed to five.  (Trust me, I was doing my best to inch my arm out as far as possible to get the most mileage on my MapMyRun app.   I think I managed to turn my 2.0 distance into 2.03).   After my turn around, the run is actually quite pleasant, -- what goes up must come down.   Which leads me to this…. I love running downhill.    In fact, everything is better going downhill.  People sled down hills, they ski downhills, a variety of different things roll down hills.    “Rolling” just sounds fun.   Everything is better down hill.   In fact, if we could all go downhill all the time the world would be a happier place.   Why then when we talk about getting older or getting sick do we talk about life going downhill?  As my toddler would say:  that doesn’t make any sense.  

I eventually reached the flatlands again and did a loop before heading back to my house, putting in that last mile (okay, it was only .85 of a mile).   In and of themselves, the flat lands aren’t good and they aren’t bad.   But, the whole time I kept thinking to myself, “dang, I wish I was going downhill!”   That’s not something you hear people say everyday!

7 Weeks to Half Marathon Day....better start preparing!

Some of you may remember that a few short months ago (6), I was stupid enough to attempt to complete a marathon.   Complete it I did…. however ugly it may have been.    In September, in an effort to keep my momentum going, I signed up to run a half marathon in February.   I thought to myself, hey- that’s 5+ months away, that’s plenty of time for me to prepare.   Silly, silly, me.  I didn’t really start ramping up in September, because why would I?   Then October rolled around, Justin had surgery and Oliver developed pneumonia.   Both are fine (although, Justin’s nose may be a bit crooked now).   Clearly, I could not possibly go for a run while either of them were sick.   November came and went before I could blink.   It was here just long enough for me to contract some horrible disease, also called a virus of unknown origin.   That lasted through December.   So, we are down to 7 weeks until I am supposed to run a half marathon.  I know what you are all thinking:   “good luck with that [insert pejoritive term of your choice!].”  To that I say, thank you kind sirs and madams, I will not need luck because I am resurrecting the blog!

I realize I attempted to resurrect the blog one other time, unsuccessfully.   But, this time it is different.  Much like when I was training for the marathon, I take extreme pleasure in sharing my misery with others and it is time for me to do that again.  

My first run was on Sunday.  I figured why wait until the New Year when you can get a jump start on things. (I did not, however, take the same approach to food, booze, organization, cleaning or anything else that people make resolutions about).    I thought I was going to die.   That’s right, die.   I was gasping for air and barely putting one foot in front of the other.   I am way too embarrassed to tell you the pace of my three mile “run.”   When I got home, Justin looked at me and said “What’s wrong with your face?  It’s all red.  The sun’s not out.”  I responded by growling.  

Wednesday’s run was only slightly better.   Tonight I shall try again and this weekend I will be attempting to make it five miles without collapsing.   Tune in next week to find out whether I survive to run another day.