This morning, my future came to visit me. In the sense of what it may feel to move like a turtle. Slow and steady without any hurry. Not that I could have if I wanted to. My legs felt like two pieces of pulverized ham in a bag hastily sewn on but with about 100 times more nerve endings. Such is the pain the day after running a hilly half marathon through the rainy city of Seattle in November. What are 20,000 numbskulls(literally) thinking even going out in that weather nonetheless spending hours in it? Fitness? Challenge? Glory? I'm going to go with the last one. The sense of accomplishment did feel really good. I beat my planned time of a 8 min/mile pace by 4 minutes. 1 hour 39 minutes. I think starting late (I hate you ferry and city traffic) gave me that mental edge because I felt like Flash racing, first, past the walkers then the slow runners and even up to the steadies. Hills be damned! I felt unstoppable. As I sit here in my crippled state, basking in my glory. I plan for the next conquest. Another wintry run? I think so.
how I treasure your presence.
Water resistant and easy to apply,
without your appearance,
I'd surely have cried.