Patience; the new endurance sport.

Well I never.... I'm telling you what, I am sore.  I mean sore, sore.  I totally underestimated the amount of work I did on Saturday, and by Sunday I was a goner.  Even more so on Monday.  This pain does not account for a 9:40 pace--but I think although we stopped alot, Rachel had us clipping right along (7:40-8:30's) in between the millions of photo ops (the Zazoosh pictures are HILARIOUS by the way, check them out);  So many great costumes! Such great fun!  Anyway, I am more sore than post SGM!  Of course I had a 2 hour massage the night of SGM, so that helped.  But I still hurt!  This morning I decided to put an end to my misery and just run to shake it out, even if I dragged my feet every step.  I'm so glad I did.  I feel so much better.  First of all daylight savings makes it so we have at least half the run in some early morning dawn, and secondly the full moon!  The moon was setting, heavy and shining against the violet blue western horizon.  It was so bright and large above the fields and the Oquirrah Mountains, it was awe inspring.  No headlamp necessary, even at the beginning of the run.   The moon shone so brightly the fields glowed.  The fog rising off the marsh, the cattle and horses were all clearly visible in the moon light.  Mornings like this fill my heart with gratitude for being able to get outside and celebrate being alive as I witness the earth silently, diligently, laboring from night to day, from Autumn to Winter. 

I love not having to use the headlamp.  The moon is still so bright we could see the road, even under the shadowy trees.  I'm finally getting used to the cold, and am enjoying seeing the mountains toward the end of the run.  The sun lights up the sky to a lavender glow, outlining the mountaintops in yellow.  I love these clear, bleak November days.  November is the best. Only the totally awesome people are born this time of year.   (Happy birthday Catherine!! ).  Can't wait till soup's on.  Two more days!!

Yesterday I read a really great post/essay on the message board that Sasha wrote during the summer about the mental aspects of training. If you have not read it yet, you should.  It's a great article.

Today's run featured a very signficant conversation with Marsha as we ran along in the moonlight and early dawn.  I pushed and devil's advocated her into a conversation regarding faith & religon from whence wisdom flowed from her as if she was in a theological debate. It was one of the most authentic and passionate discussions I've had in a long time.  It was nourishing and refreshing. But many things feel significant to me this time of year (when yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang--Sonnet 73, my favorite).  My birthday was my father's birthday, a fact I can never overlook.  I have to live with both the amazing blessings and ill fate of being his daughter.  Even though he has been gone nearly 4 years, I am just beginning to make some sense his life and death, and the impact of both upon me.  So getting closer to my birthday, and the quiet dying of the world in November, I am filled with reflection and reminders of his place and presence in my life.  His dying left an open road from where his life ended and mine began.  Didn't I say I'd start quoting Shakspeare any day now?  Don't worry, this only lasts about a week.

This day was a gift.  I didn't mean to take the day off, but it was hard to fit in the picking up of the sister from the airport and the making of soup, and the parent-teacher-conference.  So I ran in broad daylight (the audacity!) and enjoyed the beautiful blue sky and bright yellow leaves.  The whole run, and the day off, felt like a real gift.