Watering Rocks

Fie.  I actually used the word "fie" naturally in a sentence.

 Let's just say I wasn't happy when I said it.

Yesterday was one of those days were you look back and say, "at least everyone is healthy."  One ridiculous thing after another hit, and two relationships were rocked.  Add in the undeniable smell of hot wood and not being able to identify the source late into the night?  I was exhausted.  Stressed.

And then I woke up wanting to run.  This still surprises me.  I've never woke up wanting to exercise, ever!

Well.  Yeah.  But that's different.  It doesn't involve getting out of bed...😜

The issue this morning was it was cold.  Very cold.

And it was going to snow....❄️❄️❄️

Let's refresh our memory for a moment.  Remember how I hate exercise?

I hate cold more.

Love the song, HATE the cold.

With four ten hour days ahead of me, I knew I had to get the run in today.  My BFF Kim had told me this summer "there's no bad weather if you're properly dressed" and I heeded that, dressing in three layers.  Hat on and gloves in hand, I hit my current favorite trailhead.

 Granite Mountain National Wilderness

I had updated my playlist, keeping in mind a recent study on neurochemistry and music.  

 

Yes, I'm a geek.  Leave my rarely used science degree alone!

I had high expectations for this run.  Thursday's run had been good, and I knew my lungs had to be adapting.  Add in my cool new playlist, and I was going to rock this run.

Not.

The Live Fitness Quest Rant Using The Word Fie In A Sentence

Yeah.  Well.  I was hurting.

I had lower calf cramps and I couldn't breathe.  My feet stuck to the muddy trail and I couldn't find the right gait.  I had forgotten my sunglasses, and I was already too hot.  Misery had set in with lightening speed.

Apparently my neurochemistry was off, too.

Ugggghhhh.

So, instead of turning back, I walked.  The great thing about teaching myself trail running is there is NO JUDGEMENT.  I can walk, sit, rest, whine, complain, do whatever because no one is there to be annoyed by it.

 No gloves necessary, and my coat was gone at this point, too.

The cramps persisted...and at the trail turn I regrouped.

Love the successful hiding of my red nose.

The research I'd been reading on neurochemistry & music suggested music that gave "chills" had the most powerful effect on the brain.  That in mind, I adjusted my playlist.  The Stand came on, and I picked up the pace again.

One cannot imagine away pain.

I like to call myself the perfect placebo, as I don't believe in anything working.  I'm skeptical, and hate medicine of all sorts (and never, ever get me started on vitamins.)

The pain was gone.

Now, I still couldn't breathe, but the cramping let up quickly.  Was it the music?  Or the fact that at this point I was fairly well hydrated after sucking down over a bottle of water?  More field research is necessary, and I admit to being utterly fascinated.  

 

 I thought loose dirt was hard. Mud is worse.

At the midpoint I took a breather.  The cramps were gone, and I was breathing easier.  In fact, I realized I had to make a logistical decision I rather dreaded.

I needed to go potty.

When I couldn't breathe and was in pain, I didn't even notice the growing pressure.  Now that that was all under control, I found I had to find a rock.

Ugh.

Males have NO IDEA how difficult this decision is.  Several years ago, I learned it was easier to perch on a rock seat to find relief...ugh.

My business complete, I pressed on to finish the second half of the trail.  Cramps, breathlessness, peeing in the woods...it was not the run I had been expecting.

 Indeed.

My prior three runs, my focus was learning technique and spending time in worship.  Today, despite my newly cultivated worship playlist, my focus was more on staying warm and improving my performance.  My expectations were higher than before.

It was sooooo unpleasant.

Focus.  I had removed the pleasure receptor component to focus on technique...with considerably poorer results. The adjustment of adding the "chills" music readjusted my focus, and things improved.

More research is needed.

 My pile of all the things I took off during the run.

 The evidence of stress still fully visible.

At home, I am vain as ever, enjoying the quickly tightening muscles.  I am challenged by this morning's adventure; wondering where I need to make adjustments.  I note how much stronger I am, but question if this effort is duplicatable.  

 The number one lesson I took from 12 years in business.

It was a good run because it's done.  

But there's so much more to learn.