So… the plan for today was to take the gentlemen up to Husky
Stadium to the start line for the Seattle-to-Portland Classic, grab a coffee,
come back south with Schmoo, grab her bike, and go hit a nice easy paved trail
so she could ride beside me while I got in my five-mile long run…
Yeah, talk about hubris.
Or underestimating the schedule.
Or both. Yeesh.
Last night’s packing and anxiety and trying to force an
early bedtime didn’t work too well. And
then we had thunderstorms roll through and linger until 1:00 am. [Sidebar:
so you know, that happens maybe every couple/three years around here – not AT
ALL like, oh, the rest of the world. I
LOVED it. My kids, notsomuch.] Let’s just say the 3:30 am alarm came
quite early. And then – oh, yeah, this
was the icing on the cake – the coffeemaker broke! My sweet little four-cup drip, full of twenty
ounces of water and a basketful of fresh-ground beans, stopped at one and a
half cups. Inexplicably. [Okay,
it’s fifteen or so years old, but still.]
By the time the girl and I returned about 8:00 am, I was
completely discombobulated. I knew that run was NOT going to be happening
today. And at first, I was pretty
unhappy about that. I’m anxious enough
with the amount of training I’m likely to miss in the next few weeks that
missing today’s run seemed like a major addition to the risk log for this
September half-marathon I’m doing.
But then… I began to see the opportunity. See, this STP weekend means that Schmoo and I
get to hang around home today, but tomorrow we hang out in Portland all
day. I was trying to figure out how we’d
fill the day tomorrow, and really, there’s a lot to do with a chatty
eight-year-old. But… it’s easy enough to
flip the days, right? Have our
mommy/daughter day today, and some of it tomorrow too, but include a run in
tomorrow’s plans.
So, instead of the run, today included some of this:
And this:
And a bit of this:
Tomorrow, we’ll get in the run. Or something close to it. I can live with that.
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