Flying Feet

Or so they at least feels like it. My last three runs have been outdoors. Amazing, to say the least, about how awesome I feel. Saturday I ran with some gal pals at the Arboretum for a 10 miler. It felt amazing to be outdoors chatting with friends about everything from qualifying for Boston to how tiring kindergarten is to how difficult it is to give up that wine in the evening. Those 10 miles flew by. But perhaps our 8:40 average helped with that a bit as well!

Yesterday was one of those perfect Portland days where the air is filled with mist and the streets are wet, but it's not raining. It was a bit on the chilly side, but to compensate I just ran harder. I really couldn't help myself. I was so giddy to be running outside again, and I was running late. One kid thing after another ("Mommy I need to poop." "Mommy I want milk and cereal." Insert screaming 5 month old here.) postponed my run to almost 8:10. Usually the rule is that I need to be back by 8:00 so that Barry can focus on work rather than breakfast, diapers and Exersaucer time. So out the door I went with too much adrenaline.

3.5 miles later at 7:48 pace, I realized I hadn't touched my iPod once and I was listening to songs I haven't heard in months. Why is it when you're running on the treadmill, there is no song good enough? I could scan through my entire playlist twice over on a 10 miler indoors. But there I was running through the mist listening to Lenny Kravitz and not even realize it.