An admitted shoe geek waxes philosophical about running, triathlon, and life in general.
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Monday, March 26, 2012

Breaking Dawn

Saturday morning.

The sky is a dark gunmetal blue-gray, with wispy shadows of a darker full-gray striped across it. The only sounds are my breaths, the pat-pat-pat of my footfalls.

The weather report said it was 39 degrees... in the valley. As I went out my driveway I saw frost on the cars. Black-space cooling. But I know it's under 39 here. And dark enough that I have to use the back-light on my watch.

On the back part of my loop the road turn east, and the sky is more a lighter blue, less gray. The sun is still well below the horizon, though.

It's been a long time since I've done a pre-dawn run. But this is my only opportunity today to do a workout, so I take it. My distance and pace are still nothing to write home about, but it's something. And seems a little more sane than an hour or more on the trainer before 6 am.

The run finished with a tribute to the wettest-winter-ever theme - I picked up a fist sized rick that was sitting in the middle of the road, and when I tossed it into the mossy shoulder, it went "fth" and didn't roll. Just buried itself half-way into the sodden ground. Nice.

My "day job" starts pretty early, so morning workout during the week would be pre-crazy time. But an early start means an early end, and a two hour ride after work isn't a hardship on the schedule. And now that we're celebrating Daylight Savings Time, it's not an issue for darkness either.

Sunday morning.

Today is different. No set schedule (unless you count the mid-afternoon showing of The Hunger Games that my wife bought tickets for), and I'm going to be headed out for a long ride in a little over an hour. The sky to the east is getting a light pink on the horizon fading to light gray-blue, just a few clouds...

Looking forward to almost four hours on the road.

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