For lovers of sweater weather~
The Lion King: Runner’s Style
|—||F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby)|
|—||(noun) This wonderful, untranslatable German word describes the feeling of homesickness for a far away land, a place you have never visited. Do not confuse this with the english word, wanderlust; Fernweh is much more profound, it is the feeling of an unsatisfied urge to escape and discover new places, almost a sort of sadness. You miss a place you have never experienced, as opposed to lusting over it or desiring it like wanderlust. You are seeking freedom and self-discovery, but not a particular home. (via dietcrackcocaine)|
My boyfriend gave Murphy and I a little photoshoot during our daily yoga practice :)
That last one is just perfect.
This is adorable
one of the greatest pixar moments; a family thats ok with you coming 2nd
they were hiding their identities as superheros not making a statement
We really didn’t have enough money, enough people, or enough time for our road trip. I almost called it off when I originally started planning it. But there will never be a good time to travel the country for four weeks, just like there will never be a good time to quit your job, read that book, or join a gym. You will probably never have enough money, time, connections, willpower, whatever—to feel ready to make a dream happen. And this is the lesson I learned: eventually you have to stop giving yourself excuses and make the jump.
Today, we had a 6k race simulator workout. A little over 6k actually. We were instructed to take the first half at threshold pace, and after the half way point was hit, we were supposed to race the remainder. The course is a loop with a decent hill right before the start/finish. I decided to suck up my pride and take a position at the back of the pack once we started. I knew that a few members would enter a grudge/pride match in the first stretches and I wanted none of it. A younger me would have been up there hammering and rubbing elbows for the lead… that boy is gone for now. That fiery soul will be released another day.
I ended up running exactly what my coach wanted; progressing through the workout negative splitting the entire way, to which he described as a kind of “Maturity in racing… and you need to relay that to the other guys…”
Some would listen, more would squawk poppycock and the others would ignore me. No matter. I have always been one to lead by example, and earn credibility and authority over time rather than demand it.
I finished fifth on the roster today, a scoring position. This means absolutely nothing as it is a loooooong season this year, and there are many others in similar fitness that didnt have a great day today. There is no other way to explain this other than it being a dogfight for spots on the varsity roster for the entire season. I hope things will start to iron out and consistency will enter the scene, but I can only hope for so much.
One of these days, I will write about demons. I will say this: I used to use them as fuel for my season. Running from them instead of chasing something. Even in racing, is it better to run scared or to be the hunter? Better to the the hunter or the hunted?
The answer for this pair of spikes is “Hunter” and always will be.
After todays mileage, a Kenyan jog if neccesary for recovery, I have alreayd accepted that I will not be in best form for the first race of the season (training through it, naturally) or even the second race, but by the third I will be ready. Being on the top 7 is essential for Conference (as it decides who will run on the Regionals squad), but being an essential teammate to get my team to Nationals will require me to sacrifice some pre-championship season pride, and I am ready for that.
18.3 today, 6:33 average mile pace at 6000 ft altitude. We went to a new place today, which made the effort overall easier, yet the confusion of not knowing where I was on the course back, or around which corner the big hill lurked made it a tad difficult. I was selected as one of 8 runners to go 2 hours instead of an hour and forty minutes. Coach said at the beginning of the meetings this week that he wouldn’t challenge us if he didn’t care. Well I guess he cares a whole lot because I’ve only done three 2 hour runs in my entire career , let alone runs over 10 miles at 6:30 pace. Holy Freaking Crap is what I’m trying to say. There were four guys who were just plain killing it, led by the Kenyan that lived with me over the summer, then there was us. 3 of us actually, who were the chase group (but weren’t really chasing anything. Planning to come back a little faster on the way back) we still hit 9 miles at the hour mark when we turned around. We picked up another runner who is projected to be one of our top five when we turned around, so there were four of us in a group on the 9 mile stretch back to water, recovery bars, shade, bathrooooom.
We all stayed together for a while, then with 40 minutes left to go, a teammate and I happened to gap the others with a 6:07 mile… oops. We ran the rest of the time together. I was trying to get him to come with me for a faster pace for the last few miles, but I could tell he was more on the surviving side than the let’s-kill-this-over-and-over-again-until-we-bleed-from-our-orphaces side. I stayed back, matched his cadence, and we still finished the last 3 miles under 6:40 pace. Better to hold myself back a little so another can benefit from smashing a long run instead of surviving the last few miles. Thank you, Lord for answering my prayer of my legs not giving out. Recovery is key now, maybe a nap after I meet up with a good friend. I’m just walking around the house thanking the Lord for the run today; for the difficulty, for the parts that felt easy, for everything.