7:30am 79 degrees 2.04 miles 25:12 12:36 pace
That hill at Hermann Park has been calling to me since I moved back into the neighborhood. Today I stepped up. Tomorrow I'll feel it. I consider myself lucky to have such a fantastic playground across the street from me. I need to add dips on the benches, pushups, and pullups. I'm enthusiastic but not enough to add it all at once. My joints remind me how old they are, even if my brain doesn't. Intensity will make me stronger. It always does. In running or in life.
Happy Saturday.
©Michelle Scofield, August 24, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Hazards in the Road
3.20miles 37:45 11:48 pace 7:20am 73degrees
The storm that blew through last night left scattered debris in the park. Trees are down. Golfers are navigating around wayward trashcans and benches. I was excited to be out there in the cool air. I'm not sure what I stepped on, if I stepped on anything. It may have been a twig or a clump of Spanish Moss. I may have been distracted by the view around me.
Whatever.
I rolled my ankle. Spectacularly. I almost fell but I didn't. I wheeled my arms and righted myself and then I started talking to myself. Out loud.
That always cracks me up. So I started laughing.
Are you following me? I'm running, I'm floundering around, I'm talking out loud and then I'm laughing. I'm not WITH anyone. There are people around me and I'm in a park where many, many junkies and schizophrenics reside.
Moving on.
That's what I decided to do. I moved on.
I tested out the ankle. It hurt like a mother but I could ambulate. I walked gingerly for a little minute, then I decided I could do more. I was less than half a mile into my run. There was no way I was going to waste a morning or beautiful weather. I sped up to a jog and finished my run.
I came home and elevated the foot and applied an ice pack. I don't see any discoloration. There may be some mild swelling, I'm not sure if I'm imagining that or not. It's slightly tender. I'll ice and elevate through the day.
I'm going to see a movie with a friend later but I'll take it easy for the most part.
I'm really glad I kept going. So many times in my life I've let a small hit stop me in my tracks. I believe that was my habit of living in fear rather than curiosity and developing confidence. I choose the motion option.
©Michelle Scofield, August 16, 2013 All Rights Reserved
The storm that blew through last night left scattered debris in the park. Trees are down. Golfers are navigating around wayward trashcans and benches. I was excited to be out there in the cool air. I'm not sure what I stepped on, if I stepped on anything. It may have been a twig or a clump of Spanish Moss. I may have been distracted by the view around me.
Whatever.
I rolled my ankle. Spectacularly. I almost fell but I didn't. I wheeled my arms and righted myself and then I started talking to myself. Out loud.
That always cracks me up. So I started laughing.
Are you following me? I'm running, I'm floundering around, I'm talking out loud and then I'm laughing. I'm not WITH anyone. There are people around me and I'm in a park where many, many junkies and schizophrenics reside.
Moving on.
That's what I decided to do. I moved on.
I tested out the ankle. It hurt like a mother but I could ambulate. I walked gingerly for a little minute, then I decided I could do more. I was less than half a mile into my run. There was no way I was going to waste a morning or beautiful weather. I sped up to a jog and finished my run.
I came home and elevated the foot and applied an ice pack. I don't see any discoloration. There may be some mild swelling, I'm not sure if I'm imagining that or not. It's slightly tender. I'll ice and elevate through the day.
I'm going to see a movie with a friend later but I'll take it easy for the most part.
I'm really glad I kept going. So many times in my life I've let a small hit stop me in my tracks. I believe that was my habit of living in fear rather than curiosity and developing confidence. I choose the motion option.
©Michelle Scofield, August 16, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Making Lemonwater out of Lemons and Water
4:30pm 97degrees 2.13 miles 27:43 13:01 pace
All I wanted to do today was move. It didn't have to be fast. It's dangerously hot so my goal was to get past 20 minutes without having to hail one of the passing Texas Medical Center ambulance crews for a defibrillator.
I jogged through the sunny patches and walked through the shade.
I'm a little sore from an excellent yoga class last night and I didn't want to come home from work and sit around and add to my soreness.
Day before yesterday, I rode the stationary bike for 30 minutes. (The bike display said I went 9 miles. I didn't move forward one inch.) I'm thrilled to have such a beautiful gym to use but I feel claustrophobic exercising indoors - even with the beautiful view of the park. Or maybe BECAUSE of the beautiful view of the park. I considered using a treadmill today but I simply had to be out there. It's a big draw for me. It's one of the reasons I moved to this place.
I'm sipping a glass of water with a big squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of salt. Yes, I forgot to buy Gatorade. And yes, it's basically the same thing. Surprise! It tastes pretty good. There are lots of recipes on the net for homemade sports drinks. Some add sugar or coconut water. Most have a base of water, citrus, and salt. I'll add something vitamin rich to my dinner tonight, too. I don't want to ask for trouble. I know the heat is nothing to play with but it's nice to have a park so close.
©Michelle Scofield, August 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
All I wanted to do today was move. It didn't have to be fast. It's dangerously hot so my goal was to get past 20 minutes without having to hail one of the passing Texas Medical Center ambulance crews for a defibrillator.
I jogged through the sunny patches and walked through the shade.
I'm a little sore from an excellent yoga class last night and I didn't want to come home from work and sit around and add to my soreness.
Day before yesterday, I rode the stationary bike for 30 minutes. (The bike display said I went 9 miles. I didn't move forward one inch.) I'm thrilled to have such a beautiful gym to use but I feel claustrophobic exercising indoors - even with the beautiful view of the park. Or maybe BECAUSE of the beautiful view of the park. I considered using a treadmill today but I simply had to be out there. It's a big draw for me. It's one of the reasons I moved to this place.
I'm sipping a glass of water with a big squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of salt. Yes, I forgot to buy Gatorade. And yes, it's basically the same thing. Surprise! It tastes pretty good. There are lots of recipes on the net for homemade sports drinks. Some add sugar or coconut water. Most have a base of water, citrus, and salt. I'll add something vitamin rich to my dinner tonight, too. I don't want to ask for trouble. I know the heat is nothing to play with but it's nice to have a park so close.
©Michelle Scofield, August 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Trail of Metaphors - Shifting Sand
10:30am 84degrees 3.1miles 38:07 12:18 pace
I love this new place and rainy weekends. I'm sleeping so much better - and later. I guess my last place was more detrimental to my sleep pattern than I ever realized. After all, my windows faced a brick wall that overlooked a canyon that sent sound upwards, disrupting my attempts at rest. Now I'm lulled to sleep by the sound of wind up high and traffic far below. I'm in a city space full of white noise.
I woke this morning to thunder, followed soon thereafter by the foghorn blasts of the lightening warning at the golf course across the street. I would have to put off my run. I fixed a couple of eggs, and an English muffin. I waited and stepped out on my balcony to finish my coffee. A rainbow signaled to me that it was time to put on my shoes and aim for the break in the storm.
There were only a few people in the park and I stepped around puddles trying my best to keep my recently purchased shoes from being soaked. I was surprised at how difficult it was to keep my footing on the trail. I wasn't expecting the gravel to shift so much. I was prepared for the concrete to give me trouble. Slippery when wet and all. This morning's jog was like my week. I was able to navigate obvious hazards but I still ended up with muddy sneakers where I least expected it.
The last half mile was a little dicey. The dark clouds reappeared along with big booms of thunder. I can handle dirty shoes and wet clothes. Lightening strikes, not so much. The rain resumed almost as soon as I returned home.
My preferance would have been to veg on the couch this morning. I'm deadass tired after last week. Sitting leads to more sitting. My gratitude this morning is for:
That little break in the rain.
That stubborn part of me that says, "Get up! You haven't been broken yet, you're not going to break."
Those of you who give me encouragement, inspiration, and an occasional nudge.
You're my rainbows!!!
Thank you.
Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, August 10, 2013 All Rights Reserved
I love this new place and rainy weekends. I'm sleeping so much better - and later. I guess my last place was more detrimental to my sleep pattern than I ever realized. After all, my windows faced a brick wall that overlooked a canyon that sent sound upwards, disrupting my attempts at rest. Now I'm lulled to sleep by the sound of wind up high and traffic far below. I'm in a city space full of white noise.
I woke this morning to thunder, followed soon thereafter by the foghorn blasts of the lightening warning at the golf course across the street. I would have to put off my run. I fixed a couple of eggs, and an English muffin. I waited and stepped out on my balcony to finish my coffee. A rainbow signaled to me that it was time to put on my shoes and aim for the break in the storm.
There were only a few people in the park and I stepped around puddles trying my best to keep my recently purchased shoes from being soaked. I was surprised at how difficult it was to keep my footing on the trail. I wasn't expecting the gravel to shift so much. I was prepared for the concrete to give me trouble. Slippery when wet and all. This morning's jog was like my week. I was able to navigate obvious hazards but I still ended up with muddy sneakers where I least expected it.
The last half mile was a little dicey. The dark clouds reappeared along with big booms of thunder. I can handle dirty shoes and wet clothes. Lightening strikes, not so much. The rain resumed almost as soon as I returned home.
My preferance would have been to veg on the couch this morning. I'm deadass tired after last week. Sitting leads to more sitting. My gratitude this morning is for:
That little break in the rain.
That stubborn part of me that says, "Get up! You haven't been broken yet, you're not going to break."
Those of you who give me encouragement, inspiration, and an occasional nudge.
You're my rainbows!!!
Thank you.
Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, August 10, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Weighed Down with Facts
7:10 am 75 degrees 2.89 miles 35.25 12:17 pace
Ran most of it, walked a small part of it. My legs feel heavy. It's been a rough week emotionally.
I do my best not to carry my work home.
It's not always easy.
(I woke this morning from a dream about a sick patient I can no longer help.)
I need to run more.
It's not easy. It's easier to fall into dinner and a chair after work.
(It's hot as hell and it takes planning and care to go for a run and remain any sort of hydrated.)
Fact. The less I run, the worse I feel.
Fact. The less I run, the harder it is to run.
Fact. When I run, for those thirty to how-ever-many-minutes, my brain goes on a splendorous free association journey and it's rarely at work. Look! A bluejay!
©Michelle Scofield, August 3, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Ran most of it, walked a small part of it. My legs feel heavy. It's been a rough week emotionally.
I do my best not to carry my work home.
It's not always easy.
(I woke this morning from a dream about a sick patient I can no longer help.)
I need to run more.
It's not easy. It's easier to fall into dinner and a chair after work.
(It's hot as hell and it takes planning and care to go for a run and remain any sort of hydrated.)
Fact. The less I run, the worse I feel.
Fact. The less I run, the harder it is to run.
Fact. When I run, for those thirty to how-ever-many-minutes, my brain goes on a splendorous free association journey and it's rarely at work. Look! A bluejay!
©Michelle Scofield, August 3, 2013 All Rights Reserved
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