I try to fit in my longer run on the weekend, whether it’s a Saturday or Sunday. Sometimes it will be a Sweaty Saturday. Sometimes it will be a Sweaty Sunday. But I know that if I’ve left it too long, and it’s turning into looking like a Sweaty Monday might have to happen, I have let the Alliteration Accountability gods down. I was proud of myself this past weekend when I kept the Accountability going by engaging in some Sunday Sweaty Sprinty Speedwork.
Okay, I trotted. But trotting doesn’t start with S and it CERTAINLY doesn’t make me feel Strong, Superior, or Superfit. However, it’s tough to just get yourself out there when you’re dealing with illness or injury, and such is the case with me lately. There was a time when my long run was generally 20-35 km. Right now, I’m lucky if I get in 16-18. It’s easy to compare my new and unimproved slower self to my old and mythical faster self, but that often just leads me to want to not get out at all. Vicious circle of doom, self!
So yesterday, I decided I would be kind to myself on this run. I would run at any ol’ pace I chose. I would stop and look at the river if I wanted to. I would smile at and even chat with passersby. These types of behaviours, though normal for trotters and walkers, are NOT ALLOWED when I am running in the zone. But since the zone is about 87.45 spatial and temporal dimensions away from where I currently reside, I gave myself permission.
I actually BACKTRACKED to take this photo by Hawrelak. I am not allowed to backtrack when I run. But I found out that it’s actually not so bad to go back and take a second look sometimes. This hill, though a weekly contributor to my IT band issues, is so pastoral and brings you right down to the river.
When I started my run, by Mackenzie Ravine, it was so overcast, misty, and foggy, I felt like members of the undead were about to appear from behind every aspen and birch. 30 minutes in, the sun appeared.
Look at our big, beautiful river. I do love this time of year for the stark and haunting look of the landscape. I feel so relaxed, being kind to myself on this gentle and calming run, I break into inspirational song. “All the leaves are brown (except for that lone holdout on the left there) and the sky is gray (well, the clouds)… I went for a walk (a TROT, ok?? A TROT! I realize that convoys of scooters with grocery baskets are passing me but it’s still a TROT, not a (shudder) walk, for the love of all things Mizuno! ) Breathe…..breathe….look at this next photo and feel calmerrrrr……….
Cute and calm bird on a cute and calm milk carton bird feeder! Much better…
Doesn’t this feel slightly apocalyptic? Actually, I think most of October and November in Edmonton is pretty much a preview of the apocalypse. I can totally picture a zombie falling off of the LRT bridge right now. Lots of sharp sticks around though, so I’m okay!
Granddaughter, once, long ago, automobiles traveled over this bridge, filled with people heading to do things like “jobs” and “school” and “looking hip at the farmers’ market”.
Grandmother? May I please have another piece of delicious lichen?
Yes, granddaughter. After you have sabred your daily quota of the undead.
Ooooooookayyyyyyyyyyyyyy…….WAY too much apocalyptic fodder in these pictures.
I love running by the legislature, especially in summer and at Christmas! My favourite moment is when I run by just as the bells start ringing at 6pm or whenever they enjoy ringing.
I bet you thought I was going to make a comment about how the grounds look dismal and dying and the building looks locked up and deserted by the governing faction in the wake of the impending zombie apocalypse.
C’mon, people. You watch WAY too much TV. After all, I’m just out for a trot on my Sweaty Sunday!
Distance: 16.8 km (accepting this kindly on behalf of new kindtomyself self)
Time: really really long due to trotting and snapping photos and reflecting on impending doom of earth as we know it.
Goal for next Sweaty Sunday: At least 17 km and to focus more on live people than on undead peeps.