timing

yesterday's distance: 14 miles

on the iPod: "new slang" -- the shins

The timing couldn't have been more perfect, but in an less-than-ideal way, as the winter gods chose Northwest Arkansas for a second round of nasty weather. Nineteen inches this time, beginning shortly after the midnight hour and lasting well into Wednesday afternoon. As beautiful as the event was, it once again forced me indoors for treadmill running. I'm about to go crazy, certifiable nonetheless, if I don't get a long run outdoors sooner than later.

Treadmill season is over. I'm declaring it so. The Little Rock Half Marathon is three weeks away, so the worst case scenario would be making my outdoor debut at that event, because 6,000 people can't really run halfs and fulls indoors on machines. That's not how it works. It takes a course and spectators and bands and aid stations and beer at the end. And in the case of Little Rock, the largest finishers medal imaginible. This year's version spins on an axel. True story. But looking at the weather forecast gives me hope, as nothing but sunny skies and favorable temps are on the radar. Hopefully all of my long runs from here and forward will be back on trails. With no snow.

When nineteen inches of snow does indeed fall, school gets cancelled for the week. These latest days out of the classroom mark our 8th, 9th, and 10th, respectively. We're now scheduled to get out for summer break no earlier than August. I digress. The days out, however, provided me a great opportunity to get in solid mid-week runs of three, six, and three miles. On a treadmill of course. The short distances aren't so bad, but the fourteen miles was a killer. That's really all i've got to say about that.

Friday marked a new period in time with the people I love most in life, as we said goodbye to an amazing friend and human being. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit that over the past three years I had forgotten just how much I liked her and appreciated her friendship. And I have seem to have forgotten mainly because of circumstances beyond her control. She was one of the nicest people i've ever met, smart as hell, witty, and full of life. Her smile was infectious. But things changed for my friend, and I can't pinpoint exactly what happened, but the change caused me to think of her in a different light and different state of mind, both of which kept me from appreciating my friend for who she was. My feelings were different these last few days, however, particularly on Friday when faith took control and everyone else let go. After an amazingly beautiful high-church service, while standing back and watching the reception unfold, It was as if a cloud melted from my hemisphered brain and I once again remembered her love and awesomeness. It felt great and I won't soon forget it. In fact, that emotion will be with me forever, I think. I'm happy for her that the pain and fight is over. She won, in her own little way, and it's time to move forward. There are angels playing rugby in the heavens this afternoon, and the match just got a whole lot better. Her time is now.

My Sunday mornings almost always include coffee at any number of local places and the morning newspaper. For years, it seems, i've made this my time to read and enjoy the quiet of morning. It's a good thing. Almost as good as running. But not quite. It also serves as an excellent precursor to the 11:00 o'clock service at St. Paul's, which I cherish immensely. This morning I was happy to see a great friend and his young son as they were out for breakfast and what I suppose was, more importantly, some singular time together. We talked briefly and laughed at funny things that toddlers say before we retreated to opposite sides of the coffeehouse. Later they both said goodbye on their way out, and I thought to myself what great friends I have in life. When it was time to settle up for my coffee, the waitress let me know that my friend had picked up my tab. It was the nicest thing anybody had done for me in a really long while. Sometimes a quiet gesture, the simplest of decisions, speaks really loud. And the timing was great. It couldn't have been better.

One positive function of the awful fourteen miler on a treadmill was to serve as a final performance out of my running shoes from the Chicago Marathon. It may seem dramatic, or even laughable and absurd to say so, but i've grown incredibly attached to the pair of shoes that accompanied me on my first attempt at 26.2. They didn't fail me, going pace for pace and crossing the finish line in fine form. But like tires on a truck, running shoes only have so many miles in them and I've surpassed all expectations in these. It's time. In fact, it's beyond time. So I laced them up for one final distance run and will get a new pair this week before running 15 miles on Saturday.

And the truth is that they were beginning to really show their age. I found my feet blistering and cramping on any runs over 10 miles. That shouldn't happen, necessarily, and will most likely clear up with a new pair. I'm usually not a sentimental guy, but i'm gonna hang on to them. I can't bring myself to get rid of something that played such an integral role in a weekend that i'll never forget. Perhaps their significance will decrease with time, as I (hopefully) run more distance races and the memory of my first marathon fades. Perhaps new races will have more importance. Time will tell. But for now I'll keep them in my closet, a reminder of where I've been and where i'm going.

Timing is everything. It's also something we can't control, and I have to remind myself of that constantly. People come and go in our lives, friends do what friends do best, and our memories of events grow stronger or fade. No complaints here, though, as I continue to find that timing almost always works out for the best. Right now seems to be a time for looking forward, while remembering the greatness of events and relationships past. I think that's what I'll do.