A surprisingly cold run

Today when I left the house it was around 26 degrees.  I had on a thick (for running) pair of socks, running tights and a pair of shorts, and a top designed to stay warm in this weather plus a tank.  I had a head band and one pair of gloves.  I thought I would do between 13 and 15 miles this morning between 6:15 when I left and 8:15 when I planned to return.  I was surprised at how dark it was when I left but thought little of it.  I was carrying a water bottle rather than wearing a water belt.

The run was fine.  Unlike the 13 at under eight minutes per mile with a buddy a couple weeks ago this was much more of a plodding run through the city.  Slowing down here and there for as yet unshoveled and still icy sidewalks. One place on the way down to 33rd street I stepped in a puddle and made a surprisingly large splash although did not end up getting wet myself.   

On the way down, I could see the horizon off to my right starting to brighten.  And as I ran east across 33rd street toward Lake Montebello, the sky was a deep pink.  By the time I arrived at the lake and had a better view of the horizon it was a light pink to orange.  Too bad to have missed a good view of the most brilliant part.  So it goes.

The first lap around the lake was no big deal and I really didn't feel like running anywhere else so I went for a second lap.  As I approached the end of the second lap and was coming up on (but not quite at) 7 miles, I noticed something.  My hands were still cold.  It often takes 4, 5, or even 6 miles for my hands to warm up.  But at the time, I had run nearly 7 and they were still cold.  I decided not to try a third and fourth lap and head home.  This was different enough to be concerned.

As I headed home, Greenmount and York were entirely different than when I headed down.  Yes, there were people out on those streets in the 6:15-6:45ish time period that I had been running south.  But it was mostly one person here or there.  Many surprised when I came up quietly behind them.  People on cell phones yelling at whoever was on the other end causing quite a lot of noise.  People waiting for buses.  When I came back there were more people.  People in groups.  More peopel waiting for buses.  Business owners making their storefronts ready for the day.  People going into businesses.  Fewer people surprised to see me.  No one at the car wash on York Rd as I ran either direction this morning.

As I got to the car wash/gas station and within a mile of my house, I noticed that my fingers were starting to feel better.  I thought about taking on an extra mile or two.  But as I thought harder, I could tell that my left hand was fine but my right hand was still cold.

So, I just ran home.  I had completed 11.1 miles in 1:34 or about an 8:28 pace.  Leisurely for me.  I could move my fingers when I got there.  But they did hurt to touch a little.  I think I made a good decision to come in early.  At 181.8 miles it was actually a "short" week of only 33.8 miles.  That is okay.  Good for the body as I didn't tax the legs too much.  Good for the body as well as I got some extra sleep and am most of the way better except for the dry hack at night.  And for too much of the night.

Lesson of the day--listen to my body.  When it needs a lower run--take it.  

Where does that put me on my quest?  At 181.8 miles.  Just west of Donegal PA.  If I were doing this in reality there is a cheap hotel and several campgrounds right there.  I would have passed the Kooser State Park and Roaring Run Natural Area.  Several well known sandwich shops and a business called Sugar Shak Graphics.  Fun time.  

And I could have gone just a bit out of the way to visit St Raymond of the Mountains church.  A church whose history reflects the coal mining history of this part of Pennsylvania.  And a church that now serves those at the camp grounds and ski areas around Donegal.  

Brief Update

No miles today (Tuesday, January 28, 2014).

I ran 5 miles on the treadmill yesterday.  Enjoyed the easy run in 39:41.

That puts me at 155.2 miles.  To be there four weeks into the year projects out to 2023 miles, so I am not worried about overall distance.

The location at this point is somewhere on PA 218, Stoystown Rd just after it turns off from Pompey Hill Rd.  I'm really on the back roads of western Pennsylvania at this point.

I did not get to the viewing for the music and liturgy director at our church last night and I won't get to the funeral today. That is disappointing.

Final comment on 9/11: I recall meeting with a woman who was a student that day.  She said we could skip it and reschedule but she was getting ready for the first round of her pre-dissertation writing oral examination.  Students at the school of public health have two rounds.  It made me feel like I was getting something done.

Other interesting observation--St Mary Magdalene is the patron saint of the contemplative life.  I didn't know the Catholic church had a patron saint of the contemplative life. I'm not sure how "official" that is, but I really like the idea.

On to other things.  Life is very busy right now--especially as I keep getting extra sleep to shake the cold I have. 

"Drawing Warmth Out of the Cold"--Dar Williams

On the last day before I begin my Advent blogging in earnest, I will reflect on lights and warmth and the spirit that binds people together at this time of year.  Over the past several years, at this time of year, I have reflected on a song that I believe I first heard on WTMD—the Towson University radio station.  It is a song by Dar Williams called The Christians and the Pagans.  The song is a nice example of story telling about things that have the potential to draw us together even when they also have the potential (sometimes just as strong) to pull us apart.  The basic plot of the story that is told is that a woman and what I presume to be her partner from the way the story is told were celebrating solstice near the home of one woman’s uncle.  They call the uncle looking for a place to stay.  As the story unfolds the pagan traditions of celebrating solstice are shown to be not so different in spirit from the Christian traditions around the holidays.  And the feeling of love and family that comes from this gathering of individuals is projected onto other family relations.

I am someone who just likes to see people get along (although I won’t quote Rodney King here).  I am someone with the conviction of my personal beliefs; however, I am usually unwilling and uninterested in imposing on others.  I like to think that when all is said and done most of what different cultures and religions believe is not interchangeable by any means but comes from a common sense of humanity that can be shared rather than driving divisions between us.  So, the song speaks to me.

At this season of the year, this type of theme makes me think of the Festival of Lights at the Waldorf School of Baltimore.  The festival does not celebrate pagan traditions—except to the degree that a basic human motivation is to enjoy light in what is otherwise a time of darkness as the shortest day of the year approaches.  The Festival does not celebrate the pagan traditions directly but celebrates Chanukah, Advent, and Kwanzaa.  All of those festivals involve bringing light.  All the festivals focus (as in the song by Dar Williams) on making sense of history. The common theme is clear.  The music that comes with each of them is generally music of joy and rejoicing that there is hope where there might otherwise be despair. 

The song by Dar Williams ends with the phrase “drawing warmth out of the cold.”  This goes along with hope when there might otherwise be despair, and this line has so many meanings as I read it in the lyrics online and listen to the song.

First, it could mean the warmth of being in the light. Warmth in this case being a feeling of protection.  Being able to find my way when I am lost.  A sense of security. 

Second, following on the first, it follows that light comes from fire on the candles.  Fire on the candles is a small version of the fire that keeps me warm.  Fire can be a bon fire.  Fire can be in a fireplace.  Fire can even be natural gas being burned in a heater to make me warm at home. 

Third, it could mean the warm feelings that come from being part of a family or community that celebrates the Advent or Chanukah tradition (or even a pagan tradition) together.  The feeling of being part of a group.  The feeling of being surrounded by those who share the tradition.  Who share the values.

Fourth, it can be running at this time of year.  I know this is on a non-religious tangent.  But, running at sunrise in December is certainly a situation in which I am surrounded by people whose values I share (when it comes to running) and in the cold seeking warmth.  The celebration is of nature even when it is cold.  On the NCR trail, even with the temperature being just at 20F, the stream was running with the sound of the water running over the rocks being just audible.  The annual trees are bare and seeing the light of the sun rise and shine through the trees is beautiful.  The animals are out early in the morning and a runner or group of runners can see squirrel, rabbits, deer, and others.  Quiet on the trail brings its own beauty.  The warmth also comes from the sharing of values, the seeking of excellence, the attainment of goals—the number of miles, the speed, etc.  Just doing.  Most of the celebration described here may be linked to what some consider to be “God-given” talents or gifts from God including fitness, health, and speed.  But the celebrations of nature, silence, the noises of nature, trees, etc., could be just as much pagan celebrations and reasons for a spiritual warmth as Christian tradition or any other religion.

Fifth, drawing warmth out of the cold can reflect what happens when we bake and share the still warm baked goods.  The oven warms the home.  The food warms the body.  The sharing of food (specific to Chanukah like latkes) or otherwise, warms the soul.

Sixth, it could mean coming together over wine or anything else in this time of cold and dark.  Just coming together with a common bond wanting to enjoy and share. 

I’m sure if I spent the time, I could think of other things that drawing warmth out of the cold represents at this time of year.  In some cases a physical warmth.  In some cases a spiritual warmth.  In all cases, things that make people feel safe and secure and bind them together into a whole that is greater than the sum of the parts—no matter what the world view, motivation, or tradition that results in being bound together.