Go Figure

Two days, two runs, along virtually identical courses--the first run failing to dispel the mental miasma of predawn anxiety, the second feeling effortless and joyful-- a romp (did some skipping! ran backwards!). My experience, 30-plus years of it, has confirmed in me the belief that the nature of a run, like the nature of a baseball game, can never be predicted with any certainty.

Yesterday, did about 5.25 miles under a rosy sky (see above). Threw in five intervals of speed along the way, just to see if I might outrun my blues. Nothing doing. Tried to see with what I think of as my photographer's eye, that is, an eye that finds details and if they seem interesting tries to capture them in a way that reveals why they are interesting. Not much doing there either, really--see below (that's a mark on the pavement to show painters where to place the symbol of a bicyclist).

Today, did about 5.25 miles under a leaden sky. Rain on the way? Rumor has it so. No speed, just a bit of frisky gamboling. Afterward, came through the door thanking the world for allowing me to be part of it. Go figure.