999

So, I’m all kinds of freaked out. Next post is 1000 posts to the blog. Granted, some of them were from my experiment with del.icio.us, but I’m willing to bet that most of them are real posts, the kind that I actually put some thought into. And MAN – they go back almost 5 years. Crazy. Wonder what I could have done with all that lost productivity? Probably something worthwhile. 5 years time and tens of thousands of words – isn’t that what they call a PhD?

Anyway, the navel gazing will be the next post. Today, I’d like to talk about 10. Specifically yesterday’s 10.

I’d had a rough week running. The cold finally got to me, so I managed exactly no (zero, zip, zilch, nada) runs the last week of January. It was cold, there was ice, I was busy, and generally just a big fat hairy wimp. (I swam and rode the darn trainer), but didn’t run.

Yesterday, though, was just too good to pass up. Temps were well up into the 40’s, the sun was shining, and there were no excuses. So, after a little bowling with the littlest Jank while the bigger baby Jank was at a birthday party, I strapped ’em on, grabbed the camera, and headed out to do Missy’s 10 mile loop.

I generally do my longer runs focused on a lap of River Road and Rt 27 in Stonington – nice and flat, plenty scenic. Missy, however, isn’t content with the flat, easy route – she’s all about running the little hill we’ve got near the house.

So, I decided that since I’d been a pansy (man, I cannot wait for spring) all week, I went out with every intention of doing the tough route. And I did. Pictures follow:

The cemetery on River Road fascinates me.

The river’s all iced up. Folks were playing hockey. I’d never seen anyone out on the river during the winter before this cold snap.

These next three are down in Noank at the geographic low point in the run. If someone wants to stitch these together into a banner for my website, I think it’d be pretty darn sweet.

Now that I post them, I realize I left out the railroad tracks between the middle and last picture. Rats, guess I ought to go run it again

The high point of the run was about mile 9. Up until I stopped for these pictures, I felt fine. Then, the last mile really, really blew.

But, I gutted it out. If I can survive this week, I ought to be fine. My pastor almost ran me over between the low and high points; called me and chewed me out for not wearing bright enough clothes.

Now, what to write about for another 1,000 posts?