Soul Singing

Home bound
Tired of running town to town
Tired of my heart turned upside down
Now my life's a smile not a frown . . .

You got my soul singing my soul singing . . . from Soul Singing by The Black Crowes

Yesterday I ran my long run. No big deal and nothing really blog worthy about that fact. Last few years I've been doing a long run about every week of the year except in the summer months then maybe it was one every few weeks. This past fall though I started doing the 3 hour run sometimes twice a week and well, that just didn't work out so well for me. Not saying it wouldn't work for some people but for this late-to-discover-running-thirty-eight-year-old-mother-of-two-who-once-shattered-her-pelvis-and-still-a-bit-crooked it just didn't pan out.

But I do so love the 3 hour run. It is what gets my "soul singing".

Okay, not totally true. I really, really hate the first hour of the 3 hour run. I will procrastinate the heck out of starting it and then for the first seven miles I think about not doing it, cutting it short and sometimes just calling this whole running thing quits. I obsess during those early miles about every little thing: I might be too cold, this or that hurts, I am running too slow, I am tired, my outfit is all wrong, the hills are, somehow, steeper today than they were last week, I hate all my ipod music, and nothing feels quite right. But then I am at Walgreens and run in, pee, have Gu, some water from their fountain and I return to the sidewalk feeling better than when I started and now with a "can do!" attitude. For that second hour I run a little too fast and only worry a little about how much that is going to hurt me in the final hour.

Usually in that second hour I stop to buy Gatorade and the man behind the counter at the gas station on Johnson Ferry and Roswell Road alternately will either call me crazy, tell me I am beautiful or suggest that I should run to his house in Lawerenceville (which according to him is 24 miles from the store)and be his wife. On days when I look a little miserable he offers me a ride to his house in Lawerenceville. I don't know his name and he doesn't know mine but for once a week for over the past two years he has been a staple of my 21 mile weekly run.

By the end of the second hour or beginning of the third I usually have a low point. Sometimes, when I don't have it, I worry. I worry because that means catastrophe could be just around the corner. Like earlier this year when in the middle of mile 20 my ankle started hurting and it took me over 20 minutes to limp the final mile home. Agony.

So there is a little bit of comfort when the discomfort comes. Sure I have a bit of a pity party when it arrives but then I get "done" with myself and dig in. I know the best is about to come once I climb out of the valley of darkness. I know this is all self created but getting to triumph over adversity once a week really does help me deal with everything else that comes my way in the rest of my life. So yeah, basically, the long run helps me cope. Once upon a time Ritalin was the drug that made me right; now running is that drug. But that is a boring story for another time.

I love arriving at mile 17. Four miles to go. And now, it is mostly downhill until the final mile and half and at that point I won't care about running up a hill or three. It is always (unless catastrophe strikes) in the those final 30 so minutes that my soul starts its song. Sure I am spent, my hips a little achy, my hamstrings beyond annoyed with me and it would be completely impossible for me to make a sudden movement right or left but it is like my body is locked into running and it isn't going to stop until I get home. I love everything and I am so freaking happy! And it is so funny because at this point I am running on the same road I ran out on and only a few hours earlier I really, really hated this road and everything in the world. Funny how much your perspective can change on a three hour tour.

And always, always-- no matter if it is my regular 21 or I went crazy and ran 25 miles-- I run as hard and fast as I can manage up the final hill to my house. And, I will admit, many times to throwing up my arms and inwardly, okay sometimes outwardly, cheering for myself. And nearly every time as I get to my house I think about cartwheeling across my lawn to my front door. But, again, I am not too sure about my coordination for any movement other than running. So of course, I just slow down and walk happily into my house. But the cartwheels, or if I am really ambitious, the aerials? In my mind I did them. That is how I feel. And I guess if you have never cartwheeled or done an aerial or a flip then you just don't know how awesome and cool that feeling is: that spinning, for a split second, sideways, upside down and all round through the world feeling. That is how I feel after a long run.

But now I am sad.

The major artery that makes my perfect 21 mile run possible is closed. They are taking the bridge out on Sewell Mill Road. It will be out until June. They have a detour but if I follow it puts my run over 22 and I will have to run along Roswell Road. And that means I will have to switch sides just so I can be on the sidewalk to get to Old Canton (which a small portion of right there doesn't have sidewalk). That's no good. Never mind that is a just an ugly stretch to have to run along. Plus, I really like running down Providence Rd and Bill Murdock Rd and past the neighborhood I grew up in before I moved to Roswell. I always have a new memory from when I was little pop in my head. It is a nice little surprise and a great diversion.

So I've been searching for a new route. I tried one out yesterday. And it was too long--just over 23 miles. I was thinking though if it worked out I could just do it every 2 weeks and do a 16 mile run on the week in between.

The route took me from my house in East Cobb to Historic Roswell and back. But the Roswell stretch of Shallowford Road has no sidewalk and the soft shoulder is scary. Too many big trucks never mind the big hills. The hills though would be find if I had sidewalk. But running up that big of hill and having to look at the ground so I don't twist my ankle and fall into incoming traffic is just too stressful. Then the coming back along highway 92 is just sucky. 92 is always a wind tunnel. So this route is, sadly, no good.

For me a good running route-- from my house-- will be side walked and it needs to be a big loop that forces me to do the run (if I have to run past my house or have the opportunity to cut it short I probably will.) It also needs to have places I can stop to pee and get water. I don't like having to carry stuff and this is the suburbs; I can't just pee in someone's front yard. But those are just the basics. Ideally a good route will be somewhat scenic. Running along a 4 lane road past strip malls is not scenic in my opinion.

So I am still searching. I haven't looked into a route that will take me out towards Marietta or Woodstock so that could be an option. . .

Summer's Sweater

Really.
Who wants to wear a sweater in the summer?
Especially if you live anywhere in the South. The only places more terrible than Georgia for summer sweaters is lower Alabama and central Florida. Places near the beach don't count because they have the breezy air that sometimes at night makes a summer sweater kinda nice. But nothing, I mean nothing, is worse than a sweater in the still hot air. It is called waiting on a hurricane air but the hurricane and its wind never comes and neither does the cooler air. Instead you are stuck with a sweater that you don't need or want.

Even as the summer heat begins to dissipate and the threat of hurricanes wane the sweater stays. If only you could return it like you can an impulse buy. But that isn't even a possibility.

I know you Southerners are smart and know exactly what I am talking about but for all you Yankees and cool West Coasters I am talking about humidity. I have decided, after my runs today and yesterday that it isn't the heat that is so terrible about the South--it is the humidity. I hate it the most of all conditions to run in. I am just sharing this with you because I just made my decision about it today and I wanted everyone to know.

Certainly I complain about a lot of things. And yes, I can be a bit of a Goldilocks runner. I do, I'll admit it. Just like how one can be particular about how they like their coffee; I want my running weather just right. And, not to split golden locks here but I am pretty easy when it comes to my coffee: I take it black but will deal with it however it comes: hot, cold, milky, cream, sugar etc. Most importantly I would just like it to be of the caffeinated variety. Similarly when it comes to running-- as I have proven many times over, I will suck it up and deal with whatever weather hand I am dealt as I am just happy that I have the opportunity to run.

Of course, this does not mean that I won't complain about having to suck it up. Just like if you bring me coffee that is tepid I won't be able to help to myself and will point that out. I will admit, that if nothing else, I can be counted on to complain. You know, everyone has at least one constant in their lives and my knack for expressing my disdain at the less than prefect is mine. As Carmella says "What ev's"

However, I just want to make it known, for the record, that I hate the humidity most of all. It tops the list. And sure, it is a long list. What can I say? I know what I like and what I don't like.

All summer I have been kind of blaming the heat--especially for the suckiness on my 3 hours runs in 90 degrees. Around here I have to think a low humidity day would be around 50-60%. Now whether or not that is actually low I can't say. I only think that if the humidity was below 60% it would probably feel pretty darn awesome. But since every time I go for a run--no matter the temperature-- it is never less than 65% and most times is closer to 90% humidity I can only guess that anything less would be fantastic. But no. I don't know for certain.

But you can criss cross bless yourselves that every single time I go out for a run I am thinking about how I wish it was a cool and dry 55 degrees. I do: I try to channel it. Heck, at this point just the suggestion of 65 degrees and for the air to not be out-sweating me keeps me going through all these runs that feel like I have a heavy wet sweater wrapped around my head.

I am going to admit that I was pretty excited that we finally made it into the 70's and out of the high 80's this week. But I have been nothing but disappointed by the 70's (I bet there were a lot of people that said that 30 years ago too).

Let me tell you, in case you aren't lucky enough to experience it for yourselves: 75 degrees and 90% humidity is still kind of crappy. Definitely, no doubt about it, definitely much better than it being really hot and humid but still not good. No where close to even being okay. Never mind ideal.

I don't know. I am just let down, that is all. I was expecting the 70's to be good. (again, 30 years ago--probably the same thing)

I know. I know. I have been told many times that is what expectations do: they disappoint. I'll never learn.

I just want to say here and now that I want summer to take her damn sweater and leave for several months. Because you know what? I want to wear my sweaters and my jackets and my cute boots and blue jeans. I want to run and not be grossed out that yes-- I do really sweat that much. I don't want to have to worry any more that when I pass people on the sidewalk or on the trail that I might be slinging some of my sweat on them. Beause, really, no matter how cute a person is you don't want their sweat on you. Well, okay. Qualifier: you don't want their sweat on you unless you are naked together. But in that case, there is probably a whole bunch of other, er, "human" things you have committed yourself to and swapping a little sweat, I would think: not really a big issue. Might even be a good thing. At least, that is what I hear. --Mom, Dad.

Okay now. Anyway, I am getting myself excited again-- and it has nothing to do with the aforementioned sentences--well, maybe a little. No really. I just checked 10 days out weather forecast and guess what?

That's right: 50's.

The 50's will be invading Hotlanta next week. Sure it is high 50's and yes it still looks kind of humid but you know what?

That's right: People do need a sweater when it gets in the 50's. So it should be good.

Oh, but what will I do if have no weather excuses to complain about and blame my crappy runs on? No worries. I am certain something will come up. . .

So here it is: 18 miles in the humid, misty and rainy 75 degrees yesterday and 12 miles in the stale humid air today. I am looking at similar conditions for my long run and other runs the rest of this week too. And man, it sure does feel like we are waiting on a hurricane-- and at this point I might welcome it because then at least there would be a breeze.

Oh, but next week. It will get me by-- just the promise of it. You know you can always depend on the forecast 10 days out (Sarcasm people. Love it.)
Fall is closing in.
(I hope.)
Bring on the marathons!!!