I'm moving along on the C25K--half way through week three. My body is remembering, "oh yeah, this is what it feels like to keep on running, rather than walking at the first impulse." And it's not too bad. I like running. And I like running alone. Just me. With my ipod, my thoughts, and some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. I have "friends" on the running path. I don't know their names, but they're the people who run regularly about the same time I do. We smile or nod when we meet. It makes me feel good to see them. There's the man with a new puppy (a pit bull) that he has to carry most of the way. An older woman who has great running form and always smiles or says hi (is she older than I am?) There's the Japanese man who doesn't look that old, but who runs at mid morning. (Is he retired, so rich he doesn't need to work? or just able to arrange his schedule so he can enjoy running in the prime of the day? and how far does he go, anyway?? definitely beyond my farthest point at either end. He never waves, he nods his head in a way that makes me imagine it's a mini-bow, in keeping with his heritage). Usually it's individual people. People in twos or threes are often too involved in their conversation to notice other people.
I run on a trail along the Potomac River. There's always something to see. Once I saw a beaver swimming under the wooden bridge I was crossing. Last week I saw a prothanatory warbler. (I had to look that one up--my son is the bird expert in the family) There's a family of bald eagles nesting at the farthest point of my run--the parents and three babies. They've nested in the same tree for three years now and checking on their progress is good motivation to go the distance. It was fun watching the babies learn to fly. They were remarkably clumsy at first, almost bumping into each other when they flew. It reminded me of the children's story by Cannon, Stella Luna. The tides this spring have been remarkably high. In the low places near the trail, you can still see signs of the water that sat for weeks. Once last winter a whole gang of boys was playing ice hockey at just that place--on the sleek frozen pond that measured 50 yards across. Their parents were on the edges of the pond, cradling steaming paper cups of Starbucks coffee. Now that place has tiny purple wild flowers coming up amid last fall's leaves and little fringes of grass.
One thing I did this week that helped me stay OP was actually drinking all that water they want you to drink. I pour a big glass pitcher (with a top) full of ice water in the morning and then drink from it during the day. The first few days I had to chug two or three glasses right before bed. I've gotten better at it now. The hot weather helps. I try to drink a glass whenever I'm tempted to eat something off plan (and this happens much too often for comfort!) All that water has kept my tummy feeling fuller and me feeling better about myself.
Enough rambling for today. I'm hoping tomorrow brings good things!
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