Mo Pichers

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The run this morning was an effort.
I was unsure how strong I would be/feel but I wanted to build myself back up to my three-mile level.
I stayed up later than I should have last night so I was not sure how much juice I would have to donate to the cause this morning.
In spite of the delayed sleepy time, I woke up ready to go.
But because of my concern for my endurance, this run was not as fun (read: carefree) as I would have liked.
I started out at 6:11 AM.
The weather was not cooperative.
It was about 72 with 80 or 90 percent humidity.
I kept expecting to feel weak -or at least, not strong, but it never came until the last quarter mile.
At the top of the first hill, my faster breathing was not required – a good sign.

At the point in my circuit when I must decide whether to turn to the two-mile path or go on to the three-mile path, I was arguing with myself which way to go.
I was out of breath from the second hill (not an unusual situation at that point) and was unsure if I could go the extra distance.
The coach in me won.
The thought was “go for it; if you can't run the whole way, you will then know that you couldn't run the whole way”.
The coach in me is rather a simple person.

There was also another person in me – the runner.
He knows that I can do more than I think I can.
And, indeed, I did not have to elevate my breathing until the last quarter mile.
I felt tired then and was looking forward to the end.
But by that time, I was committed and settled on finishing the whole course.
I even forced myself to pick up the pace the last couple of hundred feet or so.
The only disappointment was that I stopped about ten feet short of the crack in the parking lot that I usually stop at.
The time was 6:51.
My three miles had taken forty minutes.
Much slower than the twenty-four minutes or so of my racing days just three years ago.

But it feels great to be running again.
Great.

I am posting more pictures from David and Jill's wedding.
Because of the haphazard way I have posted previous pictures of the event, I am not sure which ones I have already posted and which ones not.




Included here is one of the sweetest pictures of the event.
It was touching to witness as well.
It is of the kiss.
If I was David I might have passed out.
This was not a quick peck, but a long lingering nuzzle that lasted two or three seconds.
I do not mean to make more of it than it was, but there were several people standing around, and sister Jill was not shy about expressing her affection in a way that was both powerful yet simple and quiet.
I enjoyed the moment with them.