Ramblin' Run

Today's plan was to run from my volunteer job in east Boulder to the library in west Boulder. Unlike the last nine days or so, the day started out in double digits! And, as a bonus feature, so did the wind! Of course, being a west wind, I'd be treated to a full frontal breeze. Ah well, that's Boulder winter running for you. Rather than take the straight shot down the Boulder Creek path to the library, I decided to give myself a taste of the wind from every angle and went zigzagging through various bike paths and neighborhoods. On one zig (or was it a zag?) a gust caught me straight on and I yelped "Doh! Doh! Doh!" - easily as eloquent an out-loud muttering as any I uttered during my summer run. Throughout my life, particularly when walking or running, I tend to have a narrative streaming through my brain. During the summer's run, some of it sneaked out. There's nothing quite like running down a quiet road and blurting out about whatever might have tickled your fancy at that moment. Try it! It opens you right up!

After DohDohDoh'ing and reminiscing about summer exclamations, my thoughts turned to tunes. Long-time readers of PJ's Run might remember that I had the Beverly Hillbillies' theme song running through my head for several hundred miles this summer. Well, as tiresome as that was, I must say I sure am glad I didn't start my fiddle lessons prior to The Run. My fiddle and I are now on our third variation of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and that tune is following me everywhere. Not only that, my right arm (which already has a tendency to hang low when I run due to a whole lotta miles logged with a cast on that arm in the early 90s) now incorporates air bowing into its arm swing, right in time with the Twinkle Twinkle humming in my head. Just a little one-woman band-on-the-run, eh?!

As for the rest of my zigzag run: delightful! Neighborhoods I hadn't run through recently, lots of new sights (including the little kiddo's firetruck in the picture above), warmer temperatures, quick conversations with passers by, a decently long non-weenie run, and ending at the library where I enjoyed their new art show then gathered an armload of books to keep me entertained for the next few weeks. Excellent outing!

A picture is worth a thousand words

...and a whole lot of memories

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Click on the PJ's Run Picture Extravaganza link in the left sidebar.

Weekend thoughts

After fighting a virus through most of December and falling straight down on my tailbone on Christmas Day, it seems like I've pretty much lost all of the muscle, lung capacity, endurance, and thinness that I gained during the preparation for and completion of my summer run. One thing I did not lose, however, is the knowledge that I have the ability to achieve that level of fitness. This weekend's running brought me closer to that mindset.

Yesterday I ran on the in-town portion of the South Boulder Creek trail. While out there running along the creek and amidst the grazing cows it felt like I had slid on a favorite pair of comfy old shoes....cruising along, taking in the sights (two coyotes trotting through the herd of cows), enjoying the mild weather and peaceful trail. Ahhhh.

Today I ran the Bluestem trail on the west side of town. Of any of the local trails, this is the one that comes closest to what a poster of Alan Culpepper's encourages: "Choose a course you can love. Make it your own. Put your name on it every day. On the trail, the path, the street, track, or wherever your road is. It will always be there for you. It's there for you now. You should be there too."
Bluestem offers a lot of variations - but one thing is guaranteed, you're going to climb, and you're going to descend. You'll work your butt off going up, you'll stretch it out coming home. Heading west, you'll have fantastic views of the flatirons - glowing at sunrise, frosty in winter, rock-solid year around; and on the east-bound trip, the town and prairie seem to stretch all the way to Nebraska. I've run this at the top of my game when it felt like my feet barely touched the ground and I've tackled it when my legs felt like concrete. Today, I was simply pleased to be out there.

Fiddling around

My husband says that's the answer he'll give folks when they ask what his retired wife is up to these days...."She's fiddling around." (He doesn't twitch nearly so much saying that as he did when he was responding with "She's running to Michigan.")

Actually, yesterday seemed very reminiscent of my old work days. I dressed in "real" clothes (pants with a zipper and not an ounce of elastic! a shirt with a collar!), I went into our office and dealt with outstanding email correspondence, turned to the desk and tackled the pile of papers waiting there, ate yogurt with kashi while plowing through these things, drank a pot of coffee, and once the clutter of all these odds and ends was obliterated , I wrapped my mind around the major project of the day (an actual paying work assignment!). I concentrated hard on the project in order to make some good forward progress before my afternoon "meeting." All in all, it was spookily like the rhythm of my old work days.

And just what was that aforementioned "meeting"? My first fiddle lesson! Weeehawww!
Learning to play the fiddle was an early entry on my what-I'm-going-to-do-when-I-retire list. And now I'm doing it! If you want to hear Twinkle Twinkle Little Star played by a 55-year-old violin novice, just holler!