Northeast Road Trip

Drove up through New England to RI, then on to Belmont, Vermont (near Springfield, new hometown of the Simpsons), back to RI, then to Orange County, NY, farm and orchard country west of NYC. The sky in Vermont is amazing -- the clouds and color blue are definitely different there. And of course, RI is always wicked nice...

In order, these are the pond at the farm in NY; cows hanging out; a quiet dawn in RI; the house where I stayed in VT, and the local church just down the road. See what I mean about the sky?

I did a 16-mile run at the farm. We have a four mile loop from our front porch, past the farm next door, past lots of other farms, the town park, a cemetary full of gravestones with Polish names, and a Jewish cemetary directly across the street (on Spanktown Road, I'm not kidding about the name); past the "Sobiak Estate," our next door neighbors who carved that name in their stone pillars, just in case anyone doubted that their little piece of heaven was a bona fide estate, and back to our front door.

I ran around that sucker four times. Pancho was nice enough to do the two middle ones with me; for the first and last I listened to several episodes of Speaking of Faith, a great show about religion and spirituality on American Public Radio. I insisted he not accompany me on the final lap as I was feeling pretty cranky by then. I was trying hard to remember why in God's name I was doing this incredibly stupid thing. I don't even LIKE running! He helpfully reminded me it was so I could check it off "the list." Oh yeah, that.

The last mile or two, I swear all I could do was put one foot in front of the other and try not to cry or fall down. I hated that gravelly, uneven road. I hated my shoes and how they rubbed my throbbing feet in a very wrong way. I got a cramp in my side and had to walk for just a minute extra a couple of times during my walk breaks. But I kept going, and step by step, yard by yard I made it around that last stinking lap. I had been run/walking steadily for three hours and 10 minutes.

When I finished and had recovered slightly, I immediately called Jane. I think she'd been half expecting, or perhaps half fearing I would drop out at this point. I've heard that's pretty common when you get into double digit mileage, usually because of injuries. Jane says now that I've done 16, I can and will definitely finish the marathon. Suddenly those last few miles didn't seem nearly as bad, and in fact, I distinctly remembered feeling much worse at the end of the 14 miler two weeks before.

I'd been really nervous about running that huge distance alone. Now the 18 we have to do this coming Friday doesn't seem nearly as intimidating. I think 16 was a big turning point, maybe the point of no return. For the first time, I can see actually finishing this thing, which would be a surprising and wondrous event, a real red letter day. And just what the doctor ordered as this year 2007 winds down, having had more than its share of wild and woeful ups and downs.