Was it Bruce Lee that said that shit? Whatever the case, the sentiment is right on! As I approach the HALF CENTURY mark on this little ball of dust rotating around an equally tiny sun, the thought has occurred to me that I hadn't been myself for awhile. Of course, I have been through some professional challenges at the end of January that would make most people's head spin. And with all of the bullshit we've been dealing with as a family trying to find the right Au Pair, and then yet again, it's a wonder that I've run at all. But, I managed somehow to string together 3 half marathons (NYC, Long Island, and Brooklyn) during that time.
I am fat.
Ok Good. I got that shit out of the way. Or not really. Not yet. But I'm working on it.
Part of it, is I need to get into a groove with my running. It is harder for me to get into a groove to eat less, than running, so running is actually an easier thing to do.
I am once again following the Jack Daniels Running Plan (and yep, once again for those out there not familiar with this plan, NO. It is not a plan involving the consumption of whiskey, bourbon, or any of the other spirits out there). Jack Daniels is a running coach scientist. His plans have helped me in the past, and I'm depending on it again as one of my tenets for the upcoming marathon in Lehigh Valley in September, and the bango of a marathon in New York City in November.
This was near the half way point, with the half way point being Tappan Beach.
I caught the sunset just at the right time. There were people who were stopped, some in cars taking photos. That's Port Washington, in the distance across the neck in the photo below.
As I head back, I realized two things.
One, that I had to deal with that monstrous hill on Prospect, and two,
that I felt alive again (even overweight and all).
Kinda looks like that scene in gravity where Sandra Bullock crash lands back on Earth, right?
|The stretch of land miles across the waters from Sea Cliff is home to New Rochelle in Westchester County, NY|
The reward for reaching the summit is running through the little patriotic village of Sea Cliff with all of it's American flags and cafes and shit. (Notice, I just had to throw the word 'shit' in there).
The last big hill is actually my home which sits atop a 165 foot hike. Masochistically, I selected a house that was like to make sure no workout would be an easy one. Bella Vista and Fourth run parallel to each other, but the hill on Fourth is positively brutal. Which is why I call it, "Positively 4th Street" named after the Dylan song, cause there is no other one like it!
Ahhh yes, home. Home to the yelling and screaming of two soon-to-be-4-year-olds who are probably fighting there mother and do not want to go to bed #GuessIWillBeTheSheriffYetAgain.
I finished up with a little stretching on my lawn, and here I is, posting again since January 20-something. Feels good to be back in the saddle. No shame in falling off of it, so as long as I get back on it. Hence the title of this blogpost.