old new old

weekend long run: 19 miles
on the iPod:  "warehouse" -- the dave matthews band

The calendar marches forward through winter of 2013, ultimately toward the Little Rock Marathon, which is now five weeks away.  January seems to have been a mixture of cold days then milder ones, overcast skies then sunny expanses, windy afternoons then calm evenings.  There's been great times in building a relationship, more than enough work at BHS, and the perfect amount of quiet and solitude.    

Old habits die hard, however, and this winter has held true in that sense:  I've eaten copious amounts of red meat -- cheeseburgers, tacos, steak, and then more cheeseburgers.  I've gotten lazy about housework, particularly laundry.  I've blazed through political and social documentaries in my Netflix queue. (Drop what ever you're doing and watch Religulous right now.)  My car hasn't been washed since December.  Another glass of wine?  Yes, please.  Please don't confuse the aforementioned statement with any sort of drunken booze binge, but there has been a positive correlation between the temperature outside and numbers of glasses poured.  The winter months used to really bother me, but i've grown to appreciate them in the last few years, even to the point of enjoyment.  I'm fairly certain it has quite a bit to do with distance running.

So it was with fervor and excitement that Mrs. Murie and I set out for a 19 miler yesterday morning as the mercury hovered in the mid-30's.  I wasn't concerned in the least about the temp, as I was so very much looking forward to this run.  The temperature rarely becomes a factor, actually, particularly when wearing good gear, of which I was excited to debut after getting a new jacket on sale.  I won't lie and say that there aren't challenges when running in the winter; for instance my hands turned purple after about a half mile and stayed that way through mile two, but cardio warms the internal core really quick, sometimes as much as 20 degrees, so suddenly 38 degrees feels like 58 degrees.  Looking a bit out of sorts in bright orange and blue, I could have endured even colder temps and winds.  I just wanted to run.

We continued on through what Katie Helms, a relatively new friend and great person, calls the Promenade of Runners on the Fayetteville Trail System.  She and I ran a few tenths of a mile together earlier in the week, and when I emailed her later to let her know how much I enjoyed it, she mentioned that one of the things she loves about running in Fayetteville is seeing all the great people that make up the community.  I couldn't agree more.  I've met amazing people that I wouldn't have otherwise, starting with Deanna DuPlanti all those years ago and more recently people like Katie.  And in between are countless friends that love to lace up.  Of course the most important have become Mrs. Murie and Mrs. Pugh, but they're only a small part of the greater whole.  We're all different, all have our own goals, all have our own lives outside of running, but we are part of the fabric of this funky little town.  I can't wait to see who I meet next.

To get the needed mileage, we added the newest spur off the main corridor -- the two-mile Meadow Creek Trail.  We've really grown to love it since it's opening in the late summer of 2012.  It's centrally located on the entire grid, has some pretty good stretches of incline, and cuts through beautiful farmland owned by the University.  Because of that, however, it's completely open to the elements, which, in this case means wind.  As much as I enjoy it, the wind never fails to kick up and provide a formidable opponent to runners.  Yesterday seemed to be particularly blustery and daunting, but we forged ahead nonetheless, not knowing what conditions we might face in Little Rock.

For the second week in a row, both Mrs. Murie and I didn't have any Gu gel packs for the run.  Epic failure.  The rule of thumb is to eat one before starting any run that is 10 miles or more, and then a second one for every 5 miles on top of that.  For whatever reason she and I both keep forgetting to pick some up, so we again supplemented by sharing a Snickers bar at the North Street Mini Mart in Mile 9.  Sugar is sugar, carbs are carbs, right?  In fact, i've been enjoying the candy so much that I might eschew gel packs completely and start bringing bags of candy instead.  Maybe there's a marathon in Hersey, Pennsylvania.  I digress....

I was pretty much wiped out from an energy standpoint, so the rest of the day consisted of being a massive lug on the couch.  I laid down around 1:30 and didn't move until well after 5:00, and that was only because Don and Cynthia invited me to join them for dinner with Uncle Charles and Suski at the Venesian Inn. Opened in 1947, it's been a staple of Northwest Arkansas for over 60 years.  There are plenty of Italian dishes on the menu, all made from scratch by the descendants of the original immigrants that founded the Tontitown community, but i've never strayed from the meal for which they're known:  spaghetti and fried chicken on the same plate.  It's an unconventional pairing that completely works and regularly creates lines out the door.  And don't think for a minute that there was a single crumb left when I was finished, because there wasn't. 

   
This winter has been a mix of the old and new and it's been great.  The abbreviated training schedule isn't going to produce a PR, and I'm completely fine with that, because running 26.2 miles in the heart of Arkansas is going to be special.  And when I get back one of my students will ask me with complete and total honesty in their voice, "Mr. Puckett did ya win???"  It's inevitable.  And that's okay, too.  I'll grin and tell them that, no, I didn't win, but I did have the time of my life.  Every miles gets better, every finish line is that much sweeter.

Run.