Thursday, April 28, 2011

Here's Where The Story Ends (And Begins)



"It's that little souvenir of a colourful year which makes me smile inside."


I've been doing a 30-day song challenge, and this was one of my picks the other day for a song you listen to when you're sad. It puts a smile on my face and un-bums any bummy mood.

It's been a colorful year for sure, and quite the eventful spring racing season, which wrapped up for me with Boston, and left me almost a little surprised that I really was through all the goal races for the season. It was almost anti-climactic to run the race and not have anything break down physically, and realize that I'd made it through.

Now, that gives way to the unofficial official late spring and summer racing season. This time of year is all about fun. Lots of local, short distance races take place that I use as the lazy girl's speedwork. Though it gets hotter than the surface of the sun here in July (okay, I'm exaggerating a bit), the longer daylight hours, coupled with my kids being out of school, make it easier and more enjoyable to get out and run. A LOT. And, like any runner who likes to race and put events on the calendar, it's already time to think about the fall schedule. Several pieces of the puzzle are already in place for me. I have my guaranteed entry at the NYC Marathon thanks to my pixie dust run at The Other Half last October, and registered before the early deadline for that same race, which is sort of my signature event.

In the past week, chatter has been building on two other events. I'll be reuniting with most of my teammates for the 24 Hours of Laramie in late June, put on by the same folks who did the 24 Hours of Moab. Our team really gelled the first time around, and even though it'll be a different experience, I know it'll be great. Secondly, it's already time to start thinking Imogene Pass Run registration. This is looking like a year when everyone I've ever known who has run the event in the past plans to register again, and I'm stoked to hurl the monkey off my back from last year, too. I've been talking with a friend who ran it for the first time last year and also had a less-than-stellar race that day who is taking another swing at it in the same mindset, and it's making last year's bad race a very distant memory, with true belief that this is my year to have a great race going from Ouray to Telluride the hard way.

In other "never say never" non-news, I did something I swore I'd never do this week:

I've alternated in the past between having no opinion on 26.2 stickers, and thinking they were a little pretentious. I got this same sticker at last year's Boston and never put it on the car, though it must be said that there was a shift to the "not pretentious after all" when I saw that my friend Ilana had put hers on her truck last year. Well...after everything I went through with the injury, not knowing if I could race at all, and then not knowing if I could finish, it meant enough to me this year that I do want to show a little pride public about it. It's a nice souvenir from a day that almost didn't happen. And.... now you guys know a few more truths about me-I live in the high desert, and don't like to shell out for car washes for a vehicle that's always getting dirty somewhere.

This has turned out to be a good week for post-marathon easy running with no schedule, as regular life is moving at warp speed. I had my annual professional licensing inspection this week, passing with flying colors again but not without the usual stress in the days leading up to the day. When that was over, though, I had to turn my attention immediately to another matter that does not affect me directly, yet is very important nonetheless that I attend to it and offer my full input. Yeah, I'm being annoyingly vague but it's one of those deals. From there I leap to a weekend as a chaperone at a dance convention in Denver with my two oldest daughters. This is equal parts joy to watch them perform and take workshop classes, as well as watching the insane talent and athleticism from other studios, and misery when it comes to being indoors all weekend with lots of hairspray, dance moms and squealing (mostly) girls. I'm just praying for better weather than last year's convention, when I found myself near the top of Vail Pass on the return trip on a closed highway in a blizzard. Until then, I'm just going to breathe, worry about one project at a time....oh, and get out for one last trail run tonight before the next chapter of insanity begins.

2 comments:

ilanarama said...

Or maybe your friend Ilana is just pretentious. :-)

TiredMamaRunning said...

Yeah, that's what I've heard about those high-falutin' Durango residents. ;)