Sunday, December 31, 2017

Reflections on 2017 and looking ahead

This snowman was outside the building where I ran four of the last eight workouts of the year.  That was almost as many times on the treadmill in one week as the entire rest of the year.

In the rest of my last week of running in 2017, I could see  snow being blown onto the ski slopes near where my family was staying, I ran in a light and pretty snow on my last run with a running partner back in Baltimore (who had also done the beginning of the year 5K with me), and very cold temps on my longest run of the year with my pup which was my very last run.  That last run was 4.2 miles--my dog's longest run of the entire year so that I could end the year with 2350 miles.  The most I've ever run.  Possibly the most I ever will run in one revolution around the sun.  The third time I've gone over 2000 miles.  Each time the distance has been further.  I think next year if I just make it to 2000 that will be plenty.

With my dog, I did a lot of walking rather than running this year.  That was a blessing as I took many pictures of sunflowers and other beautiful flowers in my neighbors' yards. That led to a run project combining photos and words with the title of the short story I wrote being Lessons in Sunflower Whispers.

I continued to have great training partners this year.  With one, I shared over 60 runs.  With others I shared one or two here or there.  It was a year of fewer runs alone than ever before.  I expect to help someone do tempo runs for Boston in early 2018 and can't wait to see what else running with partners brings in the coming year.

The year brought another attempt to pace someone in a marathon.  This year the lesson was "stick by your partner's side."  The run did not meet the time goal.  But both my partner and I learned some great lessons.

As I told someone recently, I am so glad that I returned to this activity in 2006.  It really did seem like just a fitness activity at the time.  Now it is a way of life.  And I expect it to continue to be as long as I can put one foot in front of the other taking strides toward the next mile of exercise, the next mile in life.