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.