So the plan to peep the LEAF peeps may not have been among my brightest. Arising at 5:15, I sipped Sumatra and read Malcolm Gladwell for an hour or so. I now officially have issues with Malcolm Gladwell, and we’ll discuss those thoroughly at another time. It has to do with bull whips and deceased equines. But we’ll get to that. In the meantime I should mention that there has been freezing precipitation in the areas near Altamont, so I put on more clothes than seemed appropriate for Diwali (or October 17 depending on your calendar.) On a lark I added gloves, a good decision.
Miles 1-3 passed without incident, although some of the drivers who passed me surely wondered if they should call someone at the home to come retrieve me. Turning at Blanket High, I became aware that a green Subaru was slowing down beside me. I assumed that we would be discussing directions. For some reasons, motorists seem to think that anyone on foot in Greater Altamont has been trained as a tour guide. Sorry, not a Chamber employee. Doing something here. Dude in the Sube wanted to discuss the hour he ran yesterday. Good for you. Nice start. I HAVE 2 MORE HOURS AFTER THAT TO RUN. No more talkee to the runee.
As anticipated, LEAFers were mostly still sleeping. It looked pretty magical, really, with the leaves turning and the tent city and the lake and all. No wonder Alan Guinsburg liked this place. I’m not sure they needed my presence to make the event complete. So leaving the LEAVes behind, it was back out to the old highway and on to the reservoir. Emptying the cold sweat which had collected at the cuffs of my jacket, I began to wonder why this was fun.
Truth is, it’s not always fun. Sometimes it’s about making it to the top of that rise or to the end of this mile. Funny thing that every time my mind wandered to some professional annoyance or personal hangup, my running suffered. My breathing became more labored, and my heart rate would rise. Returning my focus to the matter at hand restored a balance to my internal organs. A tenuous balance. Running alone for several hours is a strange thing to do. I now think it is best to do this length of run over a course I know well. Scouting out new terrain while on a long-long run only serves to make me think I have run too far and should stop running. Immediately.
Despite brief get-to-know-you sessions with chopped Hondas, a cement truck, and an aspirant to fire service in Altamont, I did make it to Groovemont Square and back to the land of the Suwaree without having to take a walking break. I am hoping the small twitches and cramps mean the legs will be ready to fly some monkeys. Having gone 20 miles gives me hope that it won’t totally suck.
Today’s post-run hint: Ensure is not just for post-bariatric surgery patients anymore.