A Tumble

It felt a bit like a Saturday this morning, as we didn't have to rush off to daycare, and I was able to get in a bit of a longer run this morning than I normally could otherwise. I headed out around 7:20 down the powerlines. The sky was blue, the thermometer was only reading 59 degrees (!!) when I left the house and the air had that ever-so-slight edge of crispness to it that makes me happy. I ran along enjoying all the colors along the trail, from the blue of the remaining blueberries to the deep dark purples of the blackberries, the yellow of the goldenrod and the light purple of the asters to the airy Queen Anne's lace, the deep pink thistle to the white berries on the large bushes that will gradually turn a rosy pink and then a deep blacky purple in late fall. I followed a doe and a fawn for a while along the trail, the two of them bounding along gracefully away from me, until they finally veered off into the deep foliage. I also saw an Indigo Bunting, singing atop a bush in a clearing just past Rt. 24. Cool!

I definitely felt better than I did earlier this week, but still feel I am battling a sort of deep-seated exhaustion. I don't think I'm running too much - I'll likely only hit 32 miles this week - but I am sure that life's stresses and a bit of sleep deprivation are taking a toll. Ah well, running is a good answer to stress, and who needs sleep, anyway?! :-)

Right around mile 5, as I was pondering the world around me on a flat stretch of sandy trail, my foot caught the edge of a root and I went down. Hard. I left two huge divots from my knees in the sand, and rolled onto my back. I lay there stunned for a minute, and stood up, covered in sand, to brush off my hands and continue on the final mile to home. When I came in the door, Sam said "Oh man! Mama tumu (tumble)!" :-)