Taking baby steps a little faster

It was still muggy Monday, but I wanted to try a run, so I waited until around 7:30.

These long days are the best for not feeling rushed. I walked the mile loop with Maddie and then left her in the house. I reached into my dresser drawer for a T-shirt to run in and then on a whim rummaged around and pulled out a tank top made of wicking material that, unlike cotton, doesn't stick to your skin when you sweat.

 So? I used to wear those shirts when I was a "real" runner. Just putting one on increased my confidence.

I jogged to the lake, and instead of doing two miles as I had planned in the morning, I decided to go a slightly shorter distance and try to increase my speed. Since I am jogging so slowly that it's sometimes hard to tell the difference between my pace and a fast walk, picking up speed doesn't mean going very fast.

I guess you have to start, I mean re-start, somewhere.

I pinpointed a tree a relatively short distance away and then ran to it as fast as I could. Then I resumed my regular pace until I was comfortable, picked another tree and ran faster to it, and so on. My foot felt fine, and I was not out of breath.

 I started to think that maybe I could run the post-Thanksgiving Talking Turkey race in Holyoke with Ben this year. (Well, not with Ben, but go with him to the race.)  After all, I did run six miles in Philadelphia May 1, but I'd like to try the same distance again without breaking my foot and falling.

Wow, I thought, I'm actually thinking of the future without wondering if I'll be alive to run the race; instead, I'm wondering if I will be in shape. Two-and-a-half years out, I actually have been doing this kind of forward-thinking a lot more.

This is a good feeling, but those of us who are superstitious know that you can't go too far in the planning and assuming direction. You're afraid of jinxing yourself. It's kind of like being pregnant and  holding off on delivery of the nursery furniture until the baby is born, just in case the unspeakable happens. I think that is a Jewish thing. But I digress.

I finished my route yesterday by running very slowly but with relative ease up the small hill leading to our house. I was sweating so much that I thought I would never stop.

It was after dark when I finally got around to throwing something together for dinner. I was on my own, so I could revert to waiting that long.

Fourth of July fireworks went off in the distance.