As both of you know, I'm a walker these days. I still like to think I'll get back to running someday, but as long as I'm at this weight? Well, it's probably not a good idea to jackhammer my knees and hips any more than I need to. And the truth is: I don't need to do.
But today I did.
BlogHer tweeted this morning: Are you wearing a race shirt? Going for a run?
I saw it on Facebook and, to be honest, it hadn't crossed my mind. But suddenly, there was no way I
wasn't going to run, and
of course I'd be wearing a race shirt.
I ended up doing walk/run intervals, because it's just about impossible to go from walking regularly at 3 mph to being a full-fledged runner. You have to work up to it. Been there, done that. But I surprised myself by being able to run longer intervals than I'd thought I could, and more of them. I ended up finishing 4.6 miles in 1:06:27, a 14:26 pace, which is pretty darned good for this old lady.
The sun was shining, and there was a light breeze. The temperature was right around 70. It rained little white flower petals all along the road. Instead of cheering crowds, I heard birdsong and rushing water. There was one explosion, when I startled a deer, which then blasted through the underbrush. The trees are leafing out. Daffodils and dandelions cheerfully dot the mountainside. Spring has arrived here in Appalachia.
And I'm running.
