So I don't know what I did yesterday, but whatever it was, it was the right thing to do, apparently. (Cue happy dance here.) Five-point-eight beautiful Tuesday night miles, no bonking issues (must remember the veggie-and-cheese sub for lunch), no overexhaustion, no nothing to take away from the loveliness of an evening run. Reasonable expectations, better pacing than I've had in several runs, and I didn't beat myself up for the occasional short walk break. Refreshing, rejuvenating, redemption.
Just before finishing I stopped dead in my tracks and looked up at a beautiful half-moon sky, constellations shining brightly through the openings in the light skittering clouds - Orion, the dippers, the Sisters. Stars can be a rare sight in the Pacific Northwest - when it's dark at a reasonable hour, we're socked in with clouds, and when the weather is clear, it's light until well past bedtime; I take my star sightings quite dearly.
Anyway, on pace to do okay this week, even with the schedule weirdness. Today's rest was well-enjoyed; I have been walking errands on lunch hours, and today was an enjoyable trip downtown for several stops. The kids are both writing research reports, so every day has brought another trip to the library to pick up books off the hold shelf. Tomorrow should be another good six-ish miles (probably repeating Tuesday's route or some close variation), then hopefully a few easy miles on Friday if it's not too crazy (deadline day at work, might not make it - and if so, then that's that). Either way, it's unheard of for me to be at ten miles on Tuesday evening, so I'm happy with whatever I get.
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My son just asked me if I knew how the marathon got its name. (Um. Yes, child, I do.) He's now charged with finding me the historical evidence for the declared-victory-and-died legend - if/when he does, I'll be sure to post it. (really? it's not an unverifiable legend? I'm skeptical but open-minded...)