Patience; the new endurance sport.

So Catherine calls me the other day from Tennessee and asks why I haven't been blogging. So I told her it was because I hadn't been running. She didn't believe me and e-verified this fact with my husband--who for all his various complaints about my running-- actually implored her to encourage me to start back up. No one really wants to be around me when I don't run and top off that negative energy I'm so good at infecting others with when I'm unhappy. But it was true. I did in fact take 3 entire weeks off for the sake of my health and overall energy level. You know it's time for a break when you don't even miss running for 5 whole days and you don't even care when you pass runners on the street. Not even a tender moment of longing. However, I did start slowly last week running up Timpview Drive to the Cemetery, happy to discover the view of the lake and the valley from up there; and to realize not ALL of my new neighborhood sucks. Being close to the mountains isn't bad, but running on a road, in a neighborhood, not next to my river (and favorite place in the world) is--and It's been hard adjustment and my son hates my guts for moving him away from his (girl) friends. He was rather popular across town.... Among some of the things I learned while 'taking a break', is that running daily has been effective these past 8 years keeping my self-loathing at bay. When one stops doing anything at all, there is nothing special you can think of that sets you apart from the general population of other do-nothings and the sense you are a big-fat worthless piece of human waste. That 300lb. bi-polar loud-mouth you're worked so hard to suppress these past years is just on the other side of the mirror when you've stopped running away from her. Maybe we're all just 'running away' from something. (23 slow miles I posted for today is the total miles I've run since last Tuesday).

I've been reconnecting with my treadmill which now has its own lovely spot in the basement (no longer in the center of the living room). Everyone is pleased with this arrangement since we can now be alone together the wee hours without alarming the rest of the family.  Usually winter is my treadmill time--catching up on old movie and seasons of my favorite TV shows in the winter.  But I'm starting early as a treat to myself.  I want to start Boston training well rested, and not until Feb (Boston is not my idea, I promised Catherine I'd meet here there).  for right now, I just need to get my iron back to normal levels.  Also, the tumor they took out of my leg a few years ago has grown back.  Not relishing the idea of having more of my flesh cut out.  It was gross the first time around.  Cancer, it's such an inconvenience. Also, there's that hernia I should fix before I star back up.  Today's matinee:  Second half of Giant starring Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean, and Rock Hudson.  I highly recommend it if you have 3 hours to kill on a treadmill.

I am still in denial about missing the Saint George Marathon Lottery.  Why don't they just do first come first serve like every other race in America?  Because of missing the lottery Catherine moved away... and I never ran again after Park City Marathon.  I know that's not the whole story, but she would have stuck around longer if she'd had a good enough reason and I certainly would have kept up going just to say I did the Grand Slam (even though I didn't sign up officially).  My good friend Shawna contacted me to see if we could ride down to SG together (she didn't know I didn't make the Lotto).  My other friend Loreen is going down as well.  It would have been a party. I'm so sad I'll miss it this year and I miss Catherine.  It's been such a lovely fall tradition for us, and a wonderful way to finish the season.  I'll always cherish the fact that it's the course I practiced for to BQ. It's nice to know a course that well, know what to anticpate and plan for.  I'll miss that 4:00 a.m. bus ride in the dark listening to all the nervous chatting, the pre-race bon fire huddle, watching the sun rise somewhere near Veyo just as I'm warming up, the much needed oranges at mile 22 just before the downhill grand city entrance.  I'll miss the barefoot-beanie cap-hippy-man, the Hoyts, the veteren flag holder guy,  the police escorts into the city, and the handsome US Marines at the finish.  I will not miss the pre-race port-a-potties and the stress that comes from that forced bathroom visit, and how your time in that terrible, smelly plastic chamber will determine weather or not you will have a good race... don't even try to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.