Six

Well, unlike Mary Christine, my run yesterday was not-so-great at all. I started out well, highly motivated and energetic, but quit two-thirds into the 12 miles. By the seventh mile my right leg was sore behind my knee – is that a hamstring? – and I felt slow and heavy and labored. My car was parked at the eighth mile and even though I tried to talk myself into passing it, I just couldn't. Eight miles in 100 minutes – I've done that before, and had hoped I'd do better.

Now I really do feel like a slacker.

Six things I saw on my run yesterday:

1. A beaver swimming down the river
2. A great blue heron, lifting from the water's surface through the fog
3. Fog
4. The sunrise
5. My breath
6. The first lilacs of the season

Because most of our days and evenings have been spent at the hospital this week, I needed to start early. I was on the road well before 7 a.m. – I usually start running at about 10. It was cold and foggy and eery and lonely, matching the mood around the Middle of Nowhere perfectly.

Our friend died peacefully yesterday afternoon. He'd been in a deep coma since at least Friday morning, and yet still didn't want to miss anything. One of his daughters likes to say he "didn't travel," and he didn't. We're so sad here.

Six days until race day.