smelling roses

Today I set out on my Saturday run around 8:15 am. It was already about 65 degrees.   I should have started out earlier but if I am running by myself, I have a hard time doing that even though most days I am up at 530 or 6 a.m. My once large Saturday running group has dwindled down to just me most days.

I wasn't sure how far I would go – usually it depends on how I feel.  I play funny games like if I find a coin on the road, I use it as a sign that I have to go further than usual. Today I didn't find any coins but I used a different measure – seeing people I know.

During the first mile, I saw my friend Julie and her husband riding their bikes – packed and ready to go somewhere.  Julie used to run with me until she got painful hips. Seeing them made me vow to go at least 6 miles. Then at mile 6, I saw another friend, Eileen, also riding her bike. “I will go at least 7 miles”, I said to myself or maybe I said it out loud. I am not sure sometimes. To cement that decision, I saw a guy I knew from work – he was running and he looked pretty serious. But then he was a computer guy and they usually look kind of serious.

I made it almost to the seven mile mark and saw a doc I used to work with, playing tennis at the park.

“Hi, Donna” he yelled. “How you doin”

“Fabulous” I replied – actually feeling glad to be recognized – and glad to be feeling fabulous. This doc was one that always gave me a bad time – he was like an irritating little brother but I always liked him. He even had a freckled pug nose. Unlike my real brother, he was sober. Seeing him meant I must continue on to the 9 mile mark.

When I got to mile 9, I decided “what the hell” and decided to make it 11 or 12. I wanted to run a little farther than I had so far this spring since my shoulder surgery hobbled me. It's great how you never know how you are going to feel when you start out on a run, but feeling good is a gift that I no longer take for granted.

I saw a guy walking 4 yellow labs  and I stopped to talk to him. The labs were all related, mother and siblings. I got my dog fix and ran on, only then realizing that I had my camera and should have taken a picture.

I thought about why I run. People always ask me that and what I think about when I run by myself. Today I thought about why I run or more specifically, what kind of runner am I?

I have run over 35 marathons, which might seem like I am serious about this stuff. I am not really. I want to run well and improve my times but mostly I just want to run. If I run with a group, I stay with the person who is lagging behind. I think I got that from Jack – he always wanted to keep his pack together. I don't have to run every day – in fact I think running every other day is better for me as I “mature”. I don't do speed work but do a lot of hills.

Lately I have become a camera runner. I stop and smell the roses and take pictures of some of them. I notice people's yards and other runners. I say “hi” to people and if they don't answer, I say “or not”. It kind of makes me mad when people don't “hi” me back. 

The roses are beautiful this year

Not really a rose but I think it is cool to see the cactus plants with flowers on them

The top of the hill I was going to run down - you can see the Kennecott Copper mine in the distance

Got to the bottom of this hill and decided I would go home a different way...and not run back up.

Just a few miles from home, I saw a guy who looked like a happy old hippy, walking towards me. I have seen him for a few years on my runs, usually earlier in the morning, but never with a cane. He stopped and we chatted. Or ….maybe he did most of the chatting. I learned that he was a psychiatrist and was 80 years old, although I would have put him at 65. He had a lot of white hair but a very young face. He told me about his St. George marathon experiences and that he now made house calls and spent mornings with the newspaper and coffee at the neighborhood grocery store. He also had a dead elephant buried in his front yard. Oh and his name was Jack – just like my departed running buddy. He used to like dogs but now is a cat person. I wondered if he talked too much to be a good shrink. But then I got the feeling maybe he was lonely and visiting people at home was as much therapy for him as it was for them. 

Jack the old hippie, who really wasn't a hippie.

Jack, my new friend, said that I looked like a woman who could make it the final 1.5 miles home.  He looked like a happy guy who didn't mind the cane.  After taking his picture, I headed off – glad that I took the time for smell the roses and talk to old hippy shrinks. I decided that enjoying a run is much more fun than just enduring one.  The same could probably be said about  life in general...it is meant to be enjoyed and not just endured.