Running thoughts: hospitality, humility and humidity

I really thought that here on the first Wednesday of October, I’d be waxing poetic about the joys of autumn, like the fabulous pumpkin chai I recently discovered at Caribou Coffee. (It’s really awesome, and if you like pumpkin or chai, you’ve gotta try it.)

Instead of writing about the delightful fall, though, I find myself astonishingly grateful for air-conditioning and an order from my doctor to take a week off from running. After all, a run right now would be more like swimming, only without the refreshing water part.

Many of us southern runners love autumn because it lacks the main summertime ingredient that causes us to struggle: humidity. We’ve survived the awful stuff all summer, and in many cases, fall is the time of year that we ramp back up with our running. We can add in more miles and even change up the time of day we run, simply because we’re no longer trying to dodge suffocating heat and humidity. But this week has felt more like late August or early September. Yesterday was so humid outside that the windows of my house fogged up (from the outside). With the start of fall, I thought I was done with tracking sweaty footprints across the floors, not to mention the drenched shoes and running clothes.

While out with my dog this morning, I found the humidity to be overwhelming. So I tried to turn my thoughts to a topic I’ve been working out for my most recent book chapter: hospitality. Do you mind if I revisit the topic? Continue reading

The beauty all around

Those of you who have followed my blog for any length of time know that I’m an avid track and field fan, and so I’ve been pretty useless this week – an unusual couch potato-ness setting in thanks to the Olympics.

On Friday, in between the morning and afternoon sessions of track and field, I tore myself away from the TV and live Web streams to meet a friend at a nearby arboretum. The beauty that surrounded us as we walked and talked was breathtaking.

That beauty got me off the couch and out of the house yesterday – this time with camera in hand. So for today’s post, I’d like to share some images of the beauty I might have otherwise missed by spending too much time watching others run and throw and jump.

The grand promenade through the arboretum

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When God brings a parasol to your pity party

I don’t know about you, but I’ve found myself praying for shade a lot this hot summer. I’m more grateful than usual when one of the rare spots under a tree in a parking lot is open. Clouds make me almost giddy when I’m out for a morning run. And I’ve even found myself thankful for a large truck’s shadow cast over my car while I wait at a traffic signal.

But I’ll admit. Sometimes I forget to be grateful for these gifts of shade and comfort. Sometimes I’m stuck in a one-woman pity party, and I can’t see past my own bad mood to acknowledge all that’s wonderful around me.

God had to know when He created us that we humans would tend toward pity parties. We have plenty of biblical pity parties to learn from, and in one of my favorites, God even brings a parasol to the party.

A parasol for a pity party?

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A place where people love their trees and leaves

Two weekends ago, I visited St. Paul, Minnesota for the first time. I had a wonderful time seeing the sights, including the stunning St. Paul Cathedral and railroad magnate James Hill’s house on Summit Avenue.

Although my husband and I apparently brought the heat of the South with us when we came, there was still a stubborn remnant of what had been a 60-foot pile of snow that the plows built in the Sears parking lot over the winter. The St. Paul Pioneer Press even covered the story of the snow pile in the paper, which is how I knew what I was looking at when we happened to drive by the Sears parking lot later that day. My southern-girl mind can’t quite wrap itself around the idea of snow surviving a 90-degree day. But then, I’m also used to snow being white, not black from road scrapings and other dirt and debris that made up the remnant of St. Paul’s snow.  Continue reading

Summer’s golden lining

I’ve got a confession: I don’t really love summer. Or more specifically, I don’t love summer where I live. It’s hot, ridiculously humid, and it’s one long mosquito fiesta from May (sometimes April) through October (sometimes November).

As a runner, I’m an odd bird because I’d much prefer to run in 20 degree weather than in 80s and higher – and trust me, there are a lot more days here that are above 80 than below 20. I know some runners who won’t even run outside in the winter but relish a warm July day to head out into the sun. Not me. There are only so many clothes a person can take off and still run outside.

I’m actually not running these days anyway. I’ve been sidelined with an injury for the last four weeks, and I’m looking at possibly two more weeks without running. If any of you are or know runners who have been sidelined, then you’ll know that climbing-the-walls feeling I’m fighting every day. And feel free to send my husband sympathy cards for having to deal with my general grumpiness at being among the walking wounded. He definitely deserves them. Just don’t send the kind with glitter – he’s not a fan.  Continue reading