At the recommendation of my supervisor, I took a short walk over to the Capitol Mall to snap a few photos of the blooming trees.
For the first several weeks of training, I did well. I was getting to the gym a few nights per week and getting time in on the treadmill. But over the past month or so, things changed and my training went rather poorly, and I seriously considered bailing on the day, but my friend, Tyson convinced me to follow through with my plan, and I’m glad I did. To be honest though, if the forecast had indicated that it would be raining, I would have stayed home in bed for sure! As it was, the day was a mix of clouds and sun. The morning started off cold, but as usual, I warmed up pretty quickly once I started moving. By mile 2, I surely wished I had not worn a long sleeved shirt.
The map to the right shows my gps tracking for the course. Everything up through about mile 4 was mostly a gradual uphill run. The downhill portion was all in the latter half, for which I suppose I am grateful.
My official time was 2:01:25, which works out to be 13:01/mile. That’s not great, but I’m pretty much just glad I finished. At the end of the run, my knees were sore, as were my hips and back. Today, those parts feel ok, but my quadriceps are feeling it. I’m sure that tomorrow, my whole body will once again be aching.
Kathryn is already talking about the ‘next’ race. We’re looking at half marathons in the fall, as well as some triathlons that we would enter as a team (along with Alexis, our boss). It’s strange. As much as I sort of dreaded this run as the date approached, now that it’s completed, it’s frightfully easy to contemplate doing something similar in the future. What is wrong with me?!?!
Driving home after the race took about an hour. When I exited my car at my apartment, walking was a challenge as my legs had stiffened up. I thought about going to the gym to sit and soak in the hot tub, but I wanted to watch some Iron Fist, so I parked myself on the couch, put my feet up, and watched 3 episodes. Then I went to Geoff and Jackie’s for family dinner of corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and corn bread. Jackie sent some extra corned beef home with me, so that’s lunch today. I should probably go to Safeway and get some bananas to assist with my recovery.
The beauty of the world has made me sad.
This beauty that will pass.
Sometimes my heart has shaken with great joy
To see a leaping squirrel on a tree
Or a red ladybird upon a stalk.
Or little rabbits, in a field at evening,
Lit by a slanty sun.
Or some green hill, where shadows drifted by,
Some quiet hill,
Where mountainy man has sown, and soon will reap,
Near to the gate of heaven.
Or little children with bare feet
Upon the sands of some ebbed sea,
Or playing in the streets
Of little towns in Connacht.
Things young and happy.
And then my heart has told me –
These will pass,
Will pass and change,
Will die and be no more.
Things bright, and green.
Things young, and happy.
And I have gone upon my way, sorrowful.
O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och! but I’m weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there’s never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house – a house of my own
Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.
I love this jig, but it seems not so popular among my seisiún friends. Oh well.
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On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion’s pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay
O I loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that’s known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say,
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May.
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay –
When the angel woos the clay he’d lose his wings at the dawn of day.
I’ve never seen anyone play fiddle left-handed before.
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I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o’clock our neighbours drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying
He had always taken funerals in his stride
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.
The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand
And tell me they were ‘sorry for my trouble,’
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand
In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o’clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.
Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,
Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four foot box, a foot for every year.