I'm fully prepared to say right here and right now that I probably need glasses. And I'm pretty sure that I've admitted to seeing "animals" on and near the trail as I'm running. But today was a stellar day in the "holy shit! what is that?" department.
At about mile 2 or so, I look down the trail and what do I see but a komodo dragon! A fucking komodo dragon! (I'm sure this idea is in my head because of a story a co-worker was telling me yesterday about a giant lizard her son had as a pet. This lizard went on walks on a leash around the neighborhood. It was allowed to live in her house until it lunged at her husband and tried to eat him. Her husband, very wisely I believe, banished this monster from their home.) So I'm all, "Now why did I leave the pepper spray in the van? How did a komodo dragon get to suburban St. Louis? Can I outrun it? Wasn't there a Johnny Quest episode with a komodo dragon?" And by the time I've thought all of that, I'm close enough to see that it is, in fact, not a komodo dragon, but a largish log sitting on its 4 prongy leg-like limbs. Ah, the relief. Ah the laughter! Oh ho ho! Hoo boy! How silly of me to think that the log was a man-eating reptile!
I continue on, smiling at myself for being so unbelievably silly! When what shows up on the trail ahead of me but an armadillo! But this time I'm prepared. I tell myself that I need to make an appointment with the eye doctor as soon as I get home. But then I get distracted by the thought of having to wear glasses while I run and how obnoxious that would be. And did I want to try to put contacts in? I get all freaked out about putting stuff on my eyeball. Yeeeks! And while I'm busy thinking all this, I run right up on the armadillo. A real live, dinosaur-looking, freakazoid armadillo! It starts running, I start yelling. It was a laugh riot for those who may have been watching. Those things can run too. Don't think they can't.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Run report and confession
Now some of you may be throwing your arms up in the air and yelling, "Good god, woman! No confessions! We don't want to know more than we already do!" Settle down there friends, it's a relatively, in the grand scheme of things, small confession. Here it is. Ready? I am pretty sure I will not be ready to run the half marathon in September. That sound you hear is me sighing dejectedly. And while this disappoints me to no end, I feel like it's better to be truthful with myself and face it and see where I can go from here.
Somewhere in the beginning of July, I fell off the training plan, hard. Hard enough to leave a mark, hard. But, I'm back at running, trying yet again. You haven't failed until you've given up completely. At least that's what I'm telling myself anyway. Forgive me, y'all.
And now, here is the report from today's steamy run:
There was no wildlife to be seen this morning. Unless insects count. About mile 2, when I thought it might just be more fun to sit down somewhere shady and have a nice glass of iced tea, a horsefly appeared. I believe that my friend Beth, with her amazing marathon running super-powers, sent it to get me to make sure I wouldn't stop running. That sumbitch chased me for a good half mile.
As there always is (and why don't I remember this on the days I don't want to run??), there was a gift from the Creator. In my ear, I hear a voice (yes, a voice. At least I'm not seeing things, sheesh) say, "Look to your left." So I turn my head and the voice says, "No you doofus, your other left!" (Sometimes the Almighty needs to call you a doofus, in an all-loving kind of way, of course.) And when I turn my head and look, this time to my actual left, there is a spider web. And not just your run-o-the-mill web either. It hung between two trees about 10 feet apart, and in the middle was a perfectly formed circle of web about 4 feet across. The filaments were so close together and the sun was hitting it perfectly and it shone like a jewel suspended there between the trees. A jewel or a cd. A giant, shiny cd hanging there. The king of all spiders must live in that palace of a web. Or queen. Magnificent. And I said, "Nicely done, Mr. Spider!" And then I said, "Thank you" to the Creator. You understand that I say these things to myself. I don't want to scare the regulars that share the trail with me.
Oh yeah, did I mention I did the trail backward today? Started at the finish and went to the start. It made everything look different.
That's enough outta you, jane.
Somewhere in the beginning of July, I fell off the training plan, hard. Hard enough to leave a mark, hard. But, I'm back at running, trying yet again. You haven't failed until you've given up completely. At least that's what I'm telling myself anyway. Forgive me, y'all.
And now, here is the report from today's steamy run:
There was no wildlife to be seen this morning. Unless insects count. About mile 2, when I thought it might just be more fun to sit down somewhere shady and have a nice glass of iced tea, a horsefly appeared. I believe that my friend Beth, with her amazing marathon running super-powers, sent it to get me to make sure I wouldn't stop running. That sumbitch chased me for a good half mile.
As there always is (and why don't I remember this on the days I don't want to run??), there was a gift from the Creator. In my ear, I hear a voice (yes, a voice. At least I'm not seeing things, sheesh) say, "Look to your left." So I turn my head and the voice says, "No you doofus, your other left!" (Sometimes the Almighty needs to call you a doofus, in an all-loving kind of way, of course.) And when I turn my head and look, this time to my actual left, there is a spider web. And not just your run-o-the-mill web either. It hung between two trees about 10 feet apart, and in the middle was a perfectly formed circle of web about 4 feet across. The filaments were so close together and the sun was hitting it perfectly and it shone like a jewel suspended there between the trees. A jewel or a cd. A giant, shiny cd hanging there. The king of all spiders must live in that palace of a web. Or queen. Magnificent. And I said, "Nicely done, Mr. Spider!" And then I said, "Thank you" to the Creator. You understand that I say these things to myself. I don't want to scare the regulars that share the trail with me.
Oh yeah, did I mention I did the trail backward today? Started at the finish and went to the start. It made everything look different.
That's enough outta you, jane.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
