Notes on the run

Sometimes in marathon training the runs can definitely get rote. But other times - whether it's a full moon, a seasonal change or something unidentifiable - things get a little out of the ordinary, making for livelier-than-usual morning miles. It's good to take note of those runs, to remember that you can be traveling the same clusters of roads day after day but still be keeping your eyes open (literally and figuratively) to see new things. Today's run felt like that.

Notes from today's run:

1. Wildlife sighting: two raccoons lumbering across Summit Avenue. Ew.
2. Earlier in the month, I totally goofed and bought the wrong size of running shoes. (After years of running in the same style of shoe in a size 8, my feet have magically and mysteriously become an 8.5 in the last year, so my mistake was buying the 8 on auto-pilot.) Anyway, I remedied the mistake by fetching a new pair of shoes last night in the right size, and a run goes so much better when you wear the correct shoe size!
3. I looked at the radar, left the house expecting rain, and kept waiting for the ominous skies to open up. No rain ever fell. Yippee! (I'm seeing that it doesn't take much for me to describe something as "lively.")
4. I saw a very impressive toilet paper job on one of the neighborhood trees. I'm talking TP draped way, way up a maple tree, and I have no idea how high school kids managed this. As an aside, my childhood home was TP'd when I was in high school. (This was a pretty common activity in the suburbs and seems to be less frequent in the city.) When I was cleaning it up the next day, I threw a rake straight up into the air to catch some of the way-up-high paper and it obviously came straight down and nearly landed on my skyward-looking face. So continued my long-standing streak of common sense-related mishaps.

Also, remember the running buddy who I was so excited about yesterday? Yeah, he bailed already! The alarm went off this morning at 5:30, I started getting ready for the run, and Wish poked his head out into the hallway to see what was happening. I grabbed the leash and jingled my keys, the surefire signals that we were about to go outside for a fun adventure. He took one look and hightailed it back into our room, where I found him curled up next to Josh's head on his pillow. Hmph! I guess he may not be a morning runner after all.