Okay, fine, don't go away. We need the water. That doesn't mean I like it, nor does it mean I like running in it. Luckily Pam is out of town so there's no decision needed for tonight. Except that Sandy will run with me if it stops raining. Unlikely.
Saturday was a Coaches Run for the team. My first time to run with the full group! I decided that I didn't want to get up early both weekend days, and I needed more miles than the 7 we were scheduled for. The solution was to show up early and run about 4 miles before the team arrived. I got to Hillcrest Park in Concord about 6:50 am. I had to move my car because a wild turkey was attacking my bumper. Not the usual thing to see first thing in the morning! Coach Gary had already started marking the trail, which was a good thing because intuitively I started to go the wrong way. Directionally dyslexic, that's me!
I had a really nice 4 mile run along the northern end of the Iron Horse Trail. I had never run that part before. It's pretty isolated and was a tad creepy running alone there, but it was quiet, peaceful and very pretty. I got back in time for team announcements, stretch and off they go. Darn it all, I forgot that the pokey runners go first! I'm used to lining up at the back at races, and that's what I did. So by the time I got started most of the people running my pace were gone. There were a couple hanging back and I ran about a mile with them. Then I went off on my own.
At that point it hit me, very hard, that this was the sixth anniversary of my dad's death. I started remembering that day, my first season of training with TnT. That morning was our first 7 mile run, at Lake Chabot. Afterward I went to the hospital to see my dad. I left to join my mentor group at a social at TGI Friday's. When that was over I got a call to hurry back to the hospital but it was too late when I got there. While I was running Saturday I kept thinking about the last couple of years with my dad, how close we had gotten after so many years with no relationship at all. What a damn waste that was.
While I was running there were tears falling down my cheeks and I may have been doing a little sobbing. I kept running though and tried to fake smiles when I passed people. I think anyone who saw me either thought I was very sweaty or crazy. Or maybe both. Coach Al rode past and I asked him to slow down and talk to me. What a wonderful man! He gave me a pep talk, told me to remember the good times, and to think of how proud it would make my dad that I was still running in his honor and memory. He made me feel so much better. Thank you Coach!
In retrospect, I most certainly was the crazy lady out there. I usually am not emotional in public, I'm just too self-conscious. At least I got in my ten miles, or even more if you count my trip down memory lane.