one thousand suns

https://soundcloud.com/chicanemusic/one-thousand-suns-chicane/s-75Gil

Today's run was not the first run that this song has accompanied.  I don't wear earphones (they are only for runs on the Canal ice back home) but I am prone to earworms.

It was a sunny early spring morning, about 4 C, and the dog and I tried out a new loop.   I decided to head into horse country this time.   There are a bunch of "farms" nearby; actually, we live behind one but I think it's more of a hunting retreat than an equestrian thing.  Anyway, I looked at a map, figured out a promising loop, hoped that the busier roads would have adequate shoulders, and we set out.

First happy discovery: about a mile into the run, after a rather deceptive slow long tough uphill climb, we got to a dirt road!  And it wasn't a private road (an obstacle in horse country, at it turns out).   Dirt feels so much better than asphalt--and, honestly, I don't understand why all of the residential roads here aren't dirt because taxes are so low out of the town limits, and things are so spread out.  Someone has to be paying for these long stretches of mostly empty roads.  But maybe the hobby farms owners are.  Many of these farms are multi-million dollar estates.  Thanks, 1%!

Anyway, we coasted down this lovely dirt road past larger properties.  There were no cars either, which was good because there was not much of a shoulder.  Or maybe there was: we just ran on the road.  Bliss! 

We got to another main road I was worried about, but it had a nice wide shoulder too.  And then we started running on lawn.

This region is pine forest and sandy soil: there is enough water for grass, but it requires some prep and upkeep.  Not that many people have lawns here--we don't, just a bunch of pine straw.  But today we ran beside a farm that had pastures, and had planted grass right up the road too, even though this is public property.  It was really nice lawn too, green and tender.  I felt a bit beyond the pale running on it. 

We turned onto another road as planned, but there was a big yellow No Outlet sign and a hill beyond it...demoralized, I slowed to a walk.  There was an outlet on the map, and maybe it was a footpath or a dirt road or something.  I resumed running and was encouraged to see the expected road and street sign.  But it was a private road.  I don't know if it was a private road meaning belonging to one estate, or several, and I've run on private roads before, but I'm not quite sure what the deal is here.

This was almost 40 minutes into our run.  I was expecting to be home in another 20-25.  But a line or two of a suitable earworm and a few deep breaths in the sunshine helped me put things into perspective.  What's an extra mile?  Especially one that we've already run?  All we got waiting at home is napping (the dog) and umpteen hours of studying and calculations (me--finals next month, and I'm glued to the Gilbert Strang lectures on youtube because I am so out of my depth, even though I use basic algebra and trig all the time.  Fortunately, the poetry of proofs is starting to become entrancing enough to quell the nagging voice: but hasn't someone else already proved this?  aaaaAAAAAAAAAHh  but I'm painfully approaching the verge of something lovely, just like NMR ^3-J coupling.  At first we didn't see eye to eye, and then things clicked.  I've still got another month to make things click this time.)

Anyway, in the darkest (albeit sunlit in this case) moments, there is sometimes an escape.  We turned back and after jogging for about five minutes, we came across a trail and a little State Property sign.  We were next to the main forest we sometimes run in, although we've never run through or across it before because the back portion is horse trails.  But there wasn't a No Dogs sign!  I still don't know the trail system we run on that well, and had never been on the horse trails, but I had a rough idea of where we were, and which direction we had to go,  and that was good enough.  On y va!

Eventually we hit the orange people trail, and I knew enough of it that it went in the wrong direction, but only at first, and it would eventually lead to other trails that would go in the right direction. 

I started to recognize the paths and then, we went up a hill and round a curve, and you know that feeling when you've been mostly alone in a new deserted place for a while, and you're not quite lost but sort of tired, and then you see another human?  It's augmented when that other person is a handsome young forest ranger.  Maybe he wasn't actually handsome or young, or even a ranger!  He was walking off trail with what looked like a GPS and a clipboard, so I assumed he was a ranger.  A quick exchange of smiles got me up the last sandy hill, and then I knew for sure where I was, and the dog and I jogged home.

There was a loose dog again, the same scruffy one by the main road, and we blithely jogged on.   Maybe it's terribly un-Southern of me not to stop for a dog loose on a 45 mph road (fortunately, there was no traffic, otherwise I couldn't be that cold-hearted!), but the owner had used up her free pass.  Turns out her "sorry" was "Sorry, my dog is loose and I'm a lazy piece of trash" instead of "Sorry, my dog just got loose."  I feel bad for the dog, though, and had he come with us, he might have jogged to a better life.

Puppy, this song is for you too: https://soundcloud.com/chicanemusic/one-thousand-suns-chicane/s-75Gil

Total jogged (mostly jogged at least): 75 minutes.

And then I did Zwow #60, with a slight substitution in the 4-step punch exercise or whatever it's called--I slipped in some deltoid side raises.