on the iPod: "southern cross" -- CSNY
Summer is an amazing season, and so far 2013 has been right up there with the best of them. Between three weddings, grad school, reading the New York Times every morning and being lazy every afternoon, there's been precious little time for distance runs. It dawned on me a few days ago that I hadn't run anything over 10 miles since the Hogeye Marathon in mid-April. That needed to change, so I did something about it.
Leaving out solo from Starbucks close to 7:00 a.m., the sun was slowly rising from the east through clouds that were floating lazily across a blue expanse of sky. Runners seemed to be everywhere, which was nice to have company as my good running friend Mrs. Murie was out on the East Coast for a work conference and had already sent pictures of a gorgeous morning run she'd taken herself. Having not been pushing them hard, my legs were great from the beginning so I went out full throttle early on and didn't let up through the first five or six miles, finding myself in downtown Fayetteville in no time at all. I was craving a long run and this was going to be it. Turning on to Dickson street and heading toward the square, I quickly realized there was some sort of large festival going on and then remembered that Springfest had been rescheduled after really bad weather on the original date back in early May.
A stalwart on the local Fayetteville calendar, Springfest is simply perfect. I can remember years and years of memories from that event, particularly in my early twenties, of taking Dickson Street by storm as if we were kings of the world. And in some ways, I guess we were. We wore Birkenstocks and t-shirts, threw frisbees, never missed happy hour at U.S. Pizza -- all to a soundtrack that included The Beatles, Son Volt, and The Reverend Horton Heat. Undergrad classes were a necessary evil, if we couldn't buy it at IGA we didn't need it, and Thursday nights were everything. Jason and Erin were pretty much always around and knew me like the back of their hand. I can close my eyes and be back there now.
Running back to Starbucks with almost the same pace that I went out with, I looked forward to coming back downtown for Springfest and, for a few hours at least, reliving my twenties on some of the best real estate in all of Northwest Arkansas. My good buddy Uncle Lewis, himself having great memories of old school Fayetteville, thought that sounded like a great idea and met me down there for happy hour. We hadn't been waxing nostalgic for more than a few minutes when another great friend, Randall Kenneth, showed up right next to us. For those few hours I felt like a twentysomething again. And when nobody was looking, I closed my eyes and thought back to those days. They're good times, never to come back, but never gone. They were great times.
The 13 miler was just a tease. It felt great to push it hard in terms of distance, but i'd be remiss not to mention that I am really ready for the longer distances that come with marathon training. All in due time, I suppose, as we'll officially begin training for NYC in early July. I gotta be honest when I say that I can't wait. I'm ready to get up at 5:15 a.m. I'm ready to obsessively think about weekend long runs, i'm ready to be constantly thirsty and satiate that need with unsweet tea, I'm ready to push my legs beyond exhaustion, and then push them just a little bit more. I'm ready to be in a runner's haze on the couch for the rest of the day. I'm ready to go to bed at 9:00 and sleep like a rock. I'm ready.
This dog is ready, too! We passed him at the Prairie Creek Marina on Beaver Lake this afternoon and couldn't go by without a picture. He sweetly and graciously cruised right along the promenade of large house boats as if he owned Beaver Lake, and i'm pretty sure that he did. Too, too sweet.
Run.
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