A Small Piece

I am not good with goals. I never have been. Things just kind of go along and that’s the way it is and that is OK. I even have a hard time coming up with something at the end of boot camp on Mondays. Our coach asks all of us what our goals are for the week. I truly struggle with this. Maybe it’s because I want to say something meaningful and something that I can actually accomplish. I don’t know. She thought it was really funny when once when my goal was to eat a piece of fruit every day.

So the fact that I sort of set a goal for myself for the upcoming all women’s 10K is sort of surprising. I have been running for a long time. When my weight is down and I am fit and feel like a runner, it is great. Other times, not so much. I have been using my Nike app to set a training program for myself. It tells me to do intervals and fartleks and to cross train and to tells me how far to run and when. I have been pretty dedicated for me. I have put in a lot of miles. I wish I could say that every day I felt like a runner but I don’t.

On the spur of the moment last weekend I entered a 10K. I wanted to see if I was running any faster. My strategy, since I had no idea how to even have a strategy, was to run fast at the beginning because my thinking was that I would be able to stay in front of my competition after that. Coach says that is not the best strategy and she may be right. Anyway, I really felt like I ran my heart out and it was the fastest 10K that I ever ran. That is a good thing. I managed to shave five minutes off of my time in the same run the year before. Kind of impressive. By the end of the race, I felt like I had given my all, that there was nothing else left. I suppose that’s how it should be.

I ran today, mid-morning during work. Our fitness center in the building is now open all day instead of just peak times so I like to take advantage of it. It is nice being out at odd times. Less traffic. Less people. When I started running today I was a runner. I wish that I could bottle whatever it is that makes this happen. But I really don’t even know. A good meal the night before? I ate Taco Bell so maybe not. The perfect weather? Maybe, it was not too hot today. Whatever it was it was pretty good.

I have been off my training program this week due to being busy at work so I followed Monday’s workout of three miles comfortable and one mile fast. My three miles felt fast so by the time I hit the fourth I was really moving. I approached the intersection of King and Keeaumoku and noticed an ambulance and fire truck up ahead in a parking lot. I was hoping that it wasn’t a pedestrian or fellow runner. I thought that it might be the very bedraggled, potentially mentally ill, possibly drug user woman who seems to always be in the neighborhood. She has a dreadful habit of just walking across the street whenever she wants to. I have seen her almost get hit numerous times and I have been in my car waiting for her to finish crossing. Thankfully it was not her. Getting closer they were just putting a woman on a stretcher into the back of the ambulance. She was older and seemed to have scraped up her knee. In the middle of the sidewalk next to where the ambulance was were semi balled up sheets of what looked like paper towels dotted with blood. Next to that was a fairly good sized puddle of blood. It was bright and slick and red and surreal. Right in the middle of the sidewalk. It fairly took my breath away. This not-small-amount-of-liquid that had come from the woman on the stretcher. My stomach seized a bit at the sight. And then I wondered who was responsible for cleaning that up. That bright red blotch. I took a wide turn around that section of the sidewalk.

That blotch of red. Left behind for someone to clean up. Sometimes I feel like that is where my goals will lead. Being led off in a stretcher metaphorically speaking. Leaving behind vital parts. Or maybe I am just being overly dramatic and really all I need is to set more goals. And not just about running.

About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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