wander.

I've been plenty busy as of late.  Busy working, busy writing, busy mowing (do NOT get me started).

All the while, I've been rounding into shape, reestablishing and then concentrating on maintaining fitness, fiddling with fueling and tinkering with my workouts trying to be at my very best for some upcoming endeavors.  I've consulted experts, Googled and Googled some more, looked at the watch, tracked my performance, if haphazardly.

I can't say how successful I've been and I anxiously await the proof-flavored taste of the pudding that will be served, ready or not, come mid-August.

A reexamination of the last few months, despite their being incredibly busy, can't help but reveal small pockets of time when another run could have been added to the schedule or one mile more, or two, or ten, might have been tacked on the end of another.  Yes, I could have gone longer, certainly faster.  Sleep would have happened just as easily an hour later.  The haze of another early rise would've cleared had I just shaken it off and gotten moving.

I want to be my best.  I really do.

Not sure, though, that having done EVERY single thing possible to get there from a running standpoint would have actually resulted in ME being my best on all other fronts.  The mind, mine at least, has a funny way of checking out and taking with it some of the strength of the body.

In addition to all else that is going on, I've been making an effort to remember to read too, to remind myself of how others select and polish words, to marvel at how skilled artisans are able to arrange those selections in such mesmerizing patterns.

While doing so, I revisited one of my favorite books of the last few years, Martin Dugard's To Be a Runner (seriously, if you run, mentor, coach, parent, draw breath, this is an author whom I strongly encourage you to seek out:   http://www.martindugard.com/).

I could quote the book ad nauseum, as there is wisdom and beauty on every page, but here is a passage most fitting in the context of my preceding comments:

"One of the great downfalls of the modern running movement is how anal and joyless some of its leading voices have made it.  Think of me as that great voice in the wilderness that says it's okay to have fun out there.

Throw the logbook away.  Stop pausing your watch at stoplights.  Go right when you meant to go left.

Wander."

Thank you, great voice in the wilderness.

Over the next few weeks, the remainder of the year and all life long, I intend to wander and I look forward to doing so with friends, old and new, with those that are always never more than a few miles away and others seldom seen.

Let the wandering commence.

week eight.

Judged solely on the basis of frequency of workouts and number of miles logged, week 8 was a miserable failure.  After several solid weeks on the road and the trail, my forward momentum ran smack into the face of my youngest daughter's bout with what appears to have been H1N1.

After a strong run on Monday evening, the rest of the week got away from me as I spent sleepless nights taking Piper's temperature and cradling her back to sleep after another coughing fit had shaken her slumber.  Hours previously devoted to sneaking in early morning runs were spent on desperately needed sleep and after work I hurried straight home to relieve Lindsay from the day shift and/or taxi Piper to another doctor's visit.

In its way, thankfully, the week provided important perspective and made me that much more appreciative of my health and those moments I am blessed to spend on recreation and exercise.

Piper is back to full strength and, despite the week's running shortfalls, I still managed to carve out another 100 mile month (and a few really enjoyable runs) with extended daylight and warmer weather on the horizon.

Here's the stats:

Monday, February 21 - Brisk out-and-back on Power Road, Sun Hill Road and Park Hill Roads (emphasis on hills) in blowing snow.  Really good run. 

Wednesday, February 23 - Midday loop - could barely spare the time during the workday but desperately needed the run.

Saturday, February 26 - Afternoon run on the local rail to trail - faster than I'd intended the day before the Ugly Mudder, but needed to relieve some pent up energy and the legs felt good.

Sunday, February 27 - Pretzel City Sports's Ugly Mudder - bliss.