candy and optical illusions

yesterday's mileage: 17

on the iPod: "high and dry" -- radiohead

For some reason unbeknownst to myself, I made note of the time when I headed out yesterday morning for the weekend's long run in preparation for Oklahoma City. 6:57 a.m. I remember thinking that it was the earliest i've run since last August when we would leave sometimes as early as 5:45 a.m. to beat the summer heat. Regardless, I was happy to be up and about to run. Serenely calm and quiet, fresh and crisp, sunny; the morning was designed for running.

I found a rhythm rather instantaneously, which doesn't always happen, and settled into somewhere around a 10:30 pace. That's considerably slower than the pace we ran last weekend at the LR Half, but I knew I'd be going an additional four miles and would need the energy. Crossing the finish line and feeling very real exhaustion was still fresh in my hippocampus, particularly being short of breath to the point of hyperventilation. Not wanting to experience that again, and more importantly wanting to finish relatively solid, I held back.

But holding back wasn't incredibly difficult, because on mornings like yesterday there's absolutely nothing in the world i'd rather be doing than running. When the weather cooperates, when my mind is clear, when the world is in order, when my legs feel strong, when i'm at peace with my soul; that's when I enjoy the sport so much. It feels celestial and refined. It feels like home.

There were considerably good crowds of runners out enjoying the Skull Creek trail. I saw familiar faces passing by, offering the waves and smiles, short encouragements, that accompany any sort of community. Runners included. I can remember experiencing that feeling for the first time when I used to drive a Jeep Wrangler. It didn't matter whether you knew the fellow driver or not, when you passed them in their Wrangler you gave a quick wave. But I was a snob about it during the summer months and would only wave if the other driver had their top down as well. Jeeps were meant to be driven with no top, and I pretty much had mine down from April to October, rain or shine. My good friend Smith and I even rode the whole way to Destin with the top down one summer in August. It was hot as hell, humidity dripping, and I loved every minute of it. He and I will roll out next weekend in Chicago to run an 8K on the shores of Lake Michigan. Can't wait.

Because I started at Starbucks (needed the fix), I was limited in terms of trails when it came to getting in a full 17 miles. This meant that not only would I have to run the mile around Wilson Park twice, but also double back at some point on the trail. The added mileage in Wilson Park was a pleasure, not only because I crave the hills, especially the really steep one on southeast corner, but also because the park itself is so well-maintained. It's landscape is lush with trees and gardens, so much so that it makes a difference when pounding out long miles.

Less appealing, however, was having to double back for an extra three miles around the agri fields. Easily the most boring part of the entire trail system, the agri fields are the fly in my ointment. They're like beer that's not cold enough. They're a rock in my shoe. They're running out of half and half. They are sitting through staff meetings. They are grading essays. They are filing taxes. (Which I still haven't done for 2010.)

But what's even worse about the agri fields is the fact that they are somewhat of an optical illusion for a harried runner like myself. Being relatively flat and completely open, the end is visible from the beginning on both sides, which makes that portion of the trail seem short and quick. But no. Due to the slightest of turns mid-way through, there's an entire section that's not visible when beginning. And the most annoying part of the whole thing is that, having run the damn trail a bazillion times, and knowing full well what to expect, it still tricks me everytime. Curses! If this is the greatest of my worries, however, I suppose I'm doing okay. I'll count my blessings and keep running.

After a brief energy bonk around mile 14, I ate two Starbursts, my new favorite instead of gu chomps, and regained composure. I can't remember who turned me on to Starbursts, but am pretty sure it was Mrs. Pugh. I'll only eat eat the red or pink kind, though. I haven't had a gu chomp since the Fayetteville Half in December, but i've had tons of Starbursts and am not looking back.

The final three miles back to Starbucks were on the streets of Fayetteville and felt great. I had plenty left in terms of energy and could have gone another mile. My glutes were burning slightly, most likely from the Wilson Park hills, but my quads and calfs couldn't have been better. I found myself back in parking lot, feeling alive and energized, at 9:51 a.m. That's 17 miles in a few minutes under three hours, practically the pace of any average Kenyan. Okay, not really, but i'm still proud. It couldn't have been better.