on the iPod: "It's The End of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" -- R.E.M.
Yesterday's distance run was a dichotomy of sorts, as it marked the final distance run and the beginning of a two-week tapering period before the Nashville Marathon. Runners notoriously bitch about this time, which typically leads to craving more mileage and having a general cranky attitude about life. And while I must admit to having experienced these very feelings, i'm pledging right here and right now to embrace this tapering period with a positive outlook and a smile on my face. I'm also pledging that if I want to run and can't stand not doing so, I'll simply throw the plan out the window and do what makes me happy. Done and done.
Having said that, what a weekend to go out on, however! The 20 miler couldn't have gone better in terms of weather, pace, energy, and legs. I left out from the Lake Fayetteville Disc Golf course at exactly 7:30, heading south on the trail system with two short spurs needed to get the required distance. Immediately I felt a rhythm and settled in for the long haul, initially with my iPod turned off as I listened to ducks and geese on the lake. I had no idea what they were trying to communicate, but it was clear that one particular goose was interested in another. The rest of the flock (or pack?) seemed to sit back and watch the interaction play out. On the way back, some three and a half hours later, the flock was no where to be found, but I thought about them nonetheless. I wondered if the particular goose had reached catharsis, the same way that I do after a great run. Perhaps one of the ducks stepped in and mediated. Regardless, at that same moment while crossing the spillway with only a half mile left, I experienced an intense craving for sugar and instantly thought of the delectable confection that is only available in early spring of each year. The marshmallowy goodness that is covered in sugar and dyed the brightest of yellows, marking the season of bunnies and eggs and chocolate for kids the world over (or at least in the South). I drove straight to Walgreens, covered in sweat and exhausted from the mileage, to buy a box. Peeps. I wanted Peeps. Right now.
Pulling into the parking lot, the craving had intensified to a critical mass. My stomach ached and my mouth watered for high fructose corn syrup. My hands were shaking on the wheel. I needed a Peep and was prepared to eat them whole, noshing with reckless abandon on the most awesome of Easter candies. Jumping out of my truck and walking toward the door, legs screaming at me, the noon sky was brilliant and bright. I saw myself in the reflection of the Walgreen's door and my heart sank. In that moment I realized that there would be no Peeps for me. In my own delirium, I had completely left the trail and drove across North College forgetting that i'd taken off and stashed my shirt in a tree somewhere around mile 14. Faced with the "no shoes, no shirt" policy, I was forced to leave the Walgreen's parking lot empty handed and wallering in my own pitifulness. Like a kicked dog, I drove down Gregg Street to retrieve said shirt, halfway hoping that some fool had stolen it and I could simply drive home and go to bed. But, alas, my shirt was exactly where I left it, hanging out in some nondescript tree and blowing in the light breeze.
It was then that I had a moment of clarity, realizing that there was a glimmer of hope in the White Oak Station not 100 yards away. Surely they'd have a box of Peeps. Like a beacon in the night, there they were, mixed in right next to the Bar-B-Que Fritos and beef jerkey. It ate an entire row on the way home.
I spent the rest of the day on the couch, with Abe Lincoln on his blanket next to me, watching The Masters. Though I'm not an avid fan of the sport, I very much enjoy watching this golf tournament every year. I can't think of anything more relaxing after running 20 miles than to soak in the gorgeous greens of Augusta National, with it's lush foliage and interspersed Dogwood trees. The Dogwoods always remind me of my beautiful and sweet grandmother, Delia, whom we called GeGe. Even the bumper music is the same every year, a gorgeously relaxing piano melody that seems to encourage a dreamy nap before the 18th green.
The next two weeks of tapering will indeed be a trying time, as I'll want to go out four days a week, going hard on the weekends. But the goal is to do as well as possible in Nashville, and my body needs the rest; particularly my right foot that now has four ugly blisters. They're angry and ready to cause some damage if I keep up this pace. Mrs. Murie's feet, however, seem to be doing just fine as she bailed on a long run this weekend and got a pedicure, instead, while visiting her sister in Savannah, Georgia. I'm deliberately choosing to include a picture of her toes instead of mine. You can thank me later.
She and I, because of conflicting schedules, haven't had a distance run together in about a month. I miss my best good running friend and am excited that we'll be volunteering next weekend together at the Hogeye Marathon somewhere around mile 18.
The Nashville Marathon is three short weeks away and training has flown by. I feel great and am ready to go the full distance for the third time. The hard part will be waiting, but the good news is that i've got plenty of peeps to keep me company.
Run.
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