Solo Run
Today, Labor day 2007 I headed out at around 8:30 for a 15 mile run. It's the usual pre-St. George marathon (coming up the first weekend in October and my 13th running of it and about my 30th marathon) panic when I realize I haven't put in any long runs or at least not enough of them. I don't know if I can count last weekend's Hood to Coast even though that was 15 miles in three separate legs. That relay run deserves an entry of its own and I better get to it before I forget how great it was. Oh and there's another experience that I had a few weeks ago drinking Chevas Regal from the bottle with my 99 year old neighbor - I should write about that too. I need to be more disciplined.
Anyway, I headed out with the beginning of a run optimism, my ipod playing songs that my son loaded on for me. Most of them I really like. Most of the time though I don't like running with my Ipod because it keeps me from thinking deep thoughts. But today I needed it I thought, since I was on my own.
I felt sad when I thought of how my running group had diminished. A few years back we would have as many as 8 people showing up at my house - led by my friend Ron, who happened to be the minister of our church. He was just as good at ministering a congregation as he was ministering our running group. and keeping us going. But he moved to Denver, and the original group still runs but different paces, child care and convenience keep them running at different times and different routes. My friend Paula was out of town. My friend Bob has ALS (dammit!) and can no longer run. So I run for him - we all do.
I headed out on what I call the Cotton Bottom and beyond run. It is about 15 miles but I always round up so it may be a little less. It could even be a little more. At the start of my run it was about 70 degrees but it got a lot hotter as the run went on . I did pretty well for the first 6 miles, passing various familiar scenes and homes of dog friends long gone. I ran by my friend Thelma's house. She is long gone, too - a victim of colon cancer. She was 86 and I considered her a good friend. She and my other 93 year old friend made me realize that we are all girls inside no matter how old or what stuff looks like on the outside. I thought of her while my IPOD moved through Bob Dylan's A simple twist of fate, a song called The King of Carrot Flowers, and another one by the Decemberists about Leslie Ann Levine - I am still trying to figure out what that song is about. I listen to most of the songs Bill has put on, except for some reason I skip Roxanne and The House of the rising sun. I ran by a house that has a big window on the upper floor where once Ron and I saw a naked lady standing there at 6 Am. She probably did not expect to see people going by.
Not many runners out this day. The ones that are out aren't friendly. I say "Hi" and they don't. So I usually reply "Or not!". I am sure they don't hear me. When I get to the Cotton Bottom (an old bar famous for it's garlic burgers) I go a little further, drink some gatorade and eat a few shot bloks which are like jello shooters without alcohol. I head back but change directions first and run down a nice street with a lot of posh homes and a Nunnery (can't think of the correct term but it's like a monastery only with nuns. By this time my hips are aching and I have sock wad. I adjust my socks and stop at a stream and wet my face and my arms. It must be 90 degrees. Some lady stops to see if I had fallen. I thank her for asking and keep running (it is more like plodding by now).
I stop at a gas station for more gatorade and the lady working tells me she doesn't get a day off till next Thursday, but she doesn't have to work till 1 tomorrow. "Well you can sleep in", I say because I didn't know how else to offer her any hope for a better life and a better job or at least more days off.
I am getting closer to home and see all of the stucco monsters being built where some really nice homes used to be, including one where a shetland pony lived. Jack the dog loved stopping there to see that pony. Now his little corral is replaced with an ugly home that probably is about 6000 square feet. I bet they don't have a pony or a dog either.
The sock wad is worse. So I take my shoes and socks off and dip them in another cold stream. That did the trick and I head home somehow with a second wind. I fly past the Mormon church - or a Mormon church - there are about 6 within a mile radious of my house. Someone had dumped out some ice cubes so I pick some up and drop them down my shirt and head off to finish the last 1/2 mile to my house.
I get home and Bruce and Jack the dog are waiting. Despite feeling like crap I am so glad I did it and will soon forget that I felt this way. I am lucky - my friend Bob would have given anything I bet, to be out there with me. I am 53 years old and I bet there weren't too many women my age running a solo 15 miles today.
Anyway, I headed out with the beginning of a run optimism, my ipod playing songs that my son loaded on for me. Most of them I really like. Most of the time though I don't like running with my Ipod because it keeps me from thinking deep thoughts. But today I needed it I thought, since I was on my own.
I felt sad when I thought of how my running group had diminished. A few years back we would have as many as 8 people showing up at my house - led by my friend Ron, who happened to be the minister of our church. He was just as good at ministering a congregation as he was ministering our running group. and keeping us going. But he moved to Denver, and the original group still runs but different paces, child care and convenience keep them running at different times and different routes. My friend Paula was out of town. My friend Bob has ALS (dammit!) and can no longer run. So I run for him - we all do.
I headed out on what I call the Cotton Bottom and beyond run. It is about 15 miles but I always round up so it may be a little less. It could even be a little more. At the start of my run it was about 70 degrees but it got a lot hotter as the run went on . I did pretty well for the first 6 miles, passing various familiar scenes and homes of dog friends long gone. I ran by my friend Thelma's house. She is long gone, too - a victim of colon cancer. She was 86 and I considered her a good friend. She and my other 93 year old friend made me realize that we are all girls inside no matter how old or what stuff looks like on the outside. I thought of her while my IPOD moved through Bob Dylan's A simple twist of fate, a song called The King of Carrot Flowers, and another one by the Decemberists about Leslie Ann Levine - I am still trying to figure out what that song is about. I listen to most of the songs Bill has put on, except for some reason I skip Roxanne and The House of the rising sun. I ran by a house that has a big window on the upper floor where once Ron and I saw a naked lady standing there at 6 Am. She probably did not expect to see people going by.
Not many runners out this day. The ones that are out aren't friendly. I say "Hi" and they don't. So I usually reply "Or not!". I am sure they don't hear me. When I get to the Cotton Bottom (an old bar famous for it's garlic burgers) I go a little further, drink some gatorade and eat a few shot bloks which are like jello shooters without alcohol. I head back but change directions first and run down a nice street with a lot of posh homes and a Nunnery (can't think of the correct term but it's like a monastery only with nuns. By this time my hips are aching and I have sock wad. I adjust my socks and stop at a stream and wet my face and my arms. It must be 90 degrees. Some lady stops to see if I had fallen. I thank her for asking and keep running (it is more like plodding by now).
I stop at a gas station for more gatorade and the lady working tells me she doesn't get a day off till next Thursday, but she doesn't have to work till 1 tomorrow. "Well you can sleep in", I say because I didn't know how else to offer her any hope for a better life and a better job or at least more days off.
I am getting closer to home and see all of the stucco monsters being built where some really nice homes used to be, including one where a shetland pony lived. Jack the dog loved stopping there to see that pony. Now his little corral is replaced with an ugly home that probably is about 6000 square feet. I bet they don't have a pony or a dog either.
The sock wad is worse. So I take my shoes and socks off and dip them in another cold stream. That did the trick and I head home somehow with a second wind. I fly past the Mormon church - or a Mormon church - there are about 6 within a mile radious of my house. Someone had dumped out some ice cubes so I pick some up and drop them down my shirt and head off to finish the last 1/2 mile to my house.
I get home and Bruce and Jack the dog are waiting. Despite feeling like crap I am so glad I did it and will soon forget that I felt this way. I am lucky - my friend Bob would have given anything I bet, to be out there with me. I am 53 years old and I bet there weren't too many women my age running a solo 15 miles today.
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