The sight of Hosta bursting up from the earth in the spring always sort of … scares me. It’s very violent and powerful. The pointed, sharp-edged fat fingers, forcing their way out of their temporary tomb.
At the same time, it’s just so… celebratory. Such a lively, happy, bright green. Ahhh, hello, world! Welcome back, sun and warmth. It’s very inspiring.
Yesterday, my training plan called for an easy, long run of 10 miles. Seeking solace for my joints as well as a release from the boredom of the usual nearby sidewalks, I decided to try a trail run, at the nearby state park.
You know, the one I used for my mountaineering training, a few years ago? Ho! Easy run. Foolish mortal, how easily you forgot. It was a hills love fest. I had been seeking to keep my HR around 150 or so, but it ranged from 144 to 163, and those fluctuations happened quite often.
This would have simply made for a more interesting run, and certainly a very scenic one, had I brought some sustenance along. I’d figured to stop by the car -where my banana and water were- at least once during the run, but another thing I’d forgotten about the park was how large it was. The loop I thought I’d have to do twice, took me once, for the whole 100 minutes I need to run. So… at around minute 70 my energy started to wane a bit. Lead-legs greeting my every step up those nasty hills. I was very happy to see my banana and water, once I finished & returned to my car.
Fun, fun fun! Ah well. At least, after this 10-mile run, I was still somewhat functional, later in the day. I appear to be improving.
The ranger at the park informed me that there’s a trail run race, there at the park, in July. A 25k and a 50k. At the start of the day I was intrigued. 25k is 15 miles. I could easily do that by July.
Later in the day, approximately 60 minutes later, I was less intrigued. It’s hot in July. I’d rather be in the garden, watching the flowers grow.