today's milage: 3.5
weekly totals: 8
on the iPod: "Jesus Walks" -- Kanye West
This weekend marks a pivotal moment in our training as the Chicago Marathon is exactly one month away. In fact, if all goes well, at this very moment next month I will have crossed the finish line and completed my second marathon. If all goes well, we'll be celebrating our love for running with sore legs, frosty mugs, steaks on our plates, and hardware around our necks. This thought brings simultaneous smiles and tears.
As we've enjoyed our second weekend in a row of mild morning temperatures, i'm officially declaring summer closed. I know all too well, however, that the finicky Arkansas climate could, and probably will, slap us with a few more 90 degree days. If so, I'll accept mother nature's challenge and lace up anyway, getting in a few miles here and there just to spite her. But in the interim, Saturday found us once again relishing in the near-perfect conditions as we set on for a 15-miler.
After last week's run Mrs. Murie and I had agreed to start out slower, which became even more important after her right foot became a bit tweeky from doing speed work a few days earlier. The pace felt great to me and I enjoyed having my running friend by my side for longer than usual. This isn't to say that we weren't moving at a fairly fast clip, but rather just a bit off the pace we've sustained in earlier long runs. Eventually, as always, she pulled forward slightly and we retreated into our own worlds. Mine was populated with Brad Paisley, Foo Fighters, Hank Williams, Jr., Snow Patrol, U2, and Eddie Vedder.
I think we both felt great at the turn-around of our out-and-back course, because we didn't really take a moment to rest, but instead just changed distances and headed back. I loved the idea of pushing through a normal water stop (that is usually courtesy of Cynthia Puckett) and running on. After some uneventful mileage through central Fayetteville, we found ourselves doing something we've never done before: we split completely and ran different routes for the final two miles. It was a mutual decision that left both of us running what we particularly like: myself veering off the trail and hitting the city streets, and Mrs. Murie staying the course to run through a relatively dense wooded section of the trail system. Meeting back at Starbucks, we celebrated our 15-miler, as well as Mrs. Murie's last day to eat chocolate before the marathon, with iced mochas and lattes. And this time I was fully clothed.
Saturday was also the second weekend of the college football season, the highlight of which was the fact that Mrs. Pugh was throwing a watch party for the Arkansas/New Mexico game. Mrs. Pugh hasn't been running with us this summer, but she's been in our thoughts and conversations every single mile, and i'm so happy that she's going to Chicago with us. It's going to be outstanding to have her back in the start corral, ready to go the distance and finish boldly.
The bulk of the AP Social Studies department at Bentonville High School is housed together on the third floor. We have the absolute best time at work and have become steadfast friends over the years. It's not uncommon to see us huddled together in the hallway, after the tardy bell has sounded, laughing and smiling, chugging coffee, for just one more minute before beginning class. I was so incredibly excited that Mrs. Pugh was getting us all together for some Arkansas football. She labored all day over a brisket that was so good it'd make ya want to stand up and slap yo grandma. I successfully polished off three plates. And that's the truth.
The game was over within minutes, as my beloved Arkansas Razorbacks scored on the fourth play of the opening drive, and then scored three more times in the first quarter, but the party was just getting started. We yelled for the Hogs and ate and talked and laughed. I realized about half way through the night just how much I love the people with which I work. They really are amazing teachers, each and every one of them. If I had a son or daughter, I'd want him or her to take World History, Economics, Government, and European History from these people. No doubt about it.
The game was over within minutes, as my beloved Arkansas Razorbacks scored on the fourth play of the opening drive, and then scored three more times in the first quarter, but the party was just getting started. We yelled for the Hogs and ate and talked and laughed. I realized about half way through the night just how much I love the people with which I work. They really are amazing teachers, each and every one of them. If I had a son or daughter, I'd want him or her to take World History, Economics, Government, and European History from these people. No doubt about it.
Today would normally be for recovery after a long run. A day to rest weary legs and sore lower backs. But today isn't a normal day, but one of remembering the awful events that happened some ten years ago; not only in New York City, but also in a remote Pennsylvania field and Washington D.C. Today is a day of unimaginable tragedy, loss, and sorrow for Americans of all ages. We've set aside our own personal worries and concerns, coming together as a collective nation to mourn our fallen people and to comfort the families that have experienced the loss first-hand.
But it's not a day to sit idly by and do nothing, but rather a day to get out in our communities and celebrate life and American culture in the ways that we each know how. For me, it was a simple solution. I needed to run. Lacing up after church, I found the peace and serenity of the Wilson Park gardens full of promise and hope as I remembered that terrible day 10 years ago. My hope is that we learn to put down our arms and love one another, unconditionally, as human brothers and sisters. It's time to pick up our plowshares and sow forgiveness and compassion. Christians and Muslims, black people and white people, rich people and poor people; all living together as one. The fall foliage spread throughout Wilson Park, so gorgeously maintained, reminded me of this simple and beautiful concept with each step. That is my hope for all people.
But it's not a day to sit idly by and do nothing, but rather a day to get out in our communities and celebrate life and American culture in the ways that we each know how. For me, it was a simple solution. I needed to run. Lacing up after church, I found the peace and serenity of the Wilson Park gardens full of promise and hope as I remembered that terrible day 10 years ago. My hope is that we learn to put down our arms and love one another, unconditionally, as human brothers and sisters. It's time to pick up our plowshares and sow forgiveness and compassion. Christians and Muslims, black people and white people, rich people and poor people; all living together as one. The fall foliage spread throughout Wilson Park, so gorgeously maintained, reminded me of this simple and beautiful concept with each step. That is my hope for all people.
This week a countdown begins and I couldn't be happier. In one month it will be marathon weekend. I'm the luckiest guy in the world to live the life I lead, surrounded with the best people for which I could ever know. My family and friends and coworkers have no idea, but I give thanks every day to have them in my life. They never fail to accept me wholeheartedly and love me for who I am: a big, old, broken, running fool. And I accept and love them for who they are, too. No exceptions.
There is a marathon in Chicago, Illinois next month and I plan on running it. The countdown starts now.
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