Free Range Human

Emerging From Our Cocoon

The weather decided to give us a break from being a total bastard, so we headed out (some of us more reluctantly than others, the shock being that I was not the reluctant party) for a run. It was not supposed to be a record-breaking attempt, just a nice break from being inside. All that snow you see above? Melted away…

The time out was enjoyable after we got past the first few chores. We have to drain oil from an outdoor tank to an indoor tank in order to heat the house. The line stopped cooperating a few years ago and now will not drain if the temperature is below freezing; we decided to get it going while we went for the run. The basement is a filthy hole and one I hate to go into without a shower to follow, so the work, the run and subsequent cleanup were all going to work well together. Except, of course, the forces in control of all things will never let something happen that smoothly.

The line wouldn’t drain. Even my low tech beating on the tube wouldn’t get the flow going. We opened the spot where we tapped the line previously and let the air escape. Eventually J decided there wasn’t enough force behind the remaining six inches of oil to force it over the hump in the line. *sigh* Can’t order more until the week starts and then it will be back to frigid unpleasantness. Oh well.

Once we got past the soupy goo that is our section of road–and thanks, county road grader, who consistently churns up the surface for no particular reason and to no helpful effect except to push the remaining three pieces of gravel off into my grass–we weren’t getting our socks and running sandals wet and our thoughts turned to how lovely it was outside. Still and quiet as winter, but mild…cool enough that we were comfortable, but not so cold that we couldn’t breathe.

Taking it easy is tough for me and I only half achieved that goal. Some of the tough parts seemed unnaturally easy, but then the whole run kicked my ass. I consistently get running sickness–come home to nausea, the feeling like my internal contents want to come bursting out both ends at once.

And the shower! Oh, god. Sometimes half of the mental effort I need for a workout is to get through the shower afterward. The combination of exhaustion and hot water has nearly made me pass out on more than one occasion.

We have both experienced a renewal in our determination to make a marathon happen. I am most excited about getting back to the 10 to 12 mile runs we used to complete. They almost seem like they must have happened to someone else, but I remember them and I remember them not being that hard. I’ve had plenty of short runs that were tougher to get through than those long runs. I think something in me gives up and doesn’t worry about speed or distance on longer runs. That piece of my mind is overwhelmed into silence.

Wow, to be a person who goes out and does an easy 10 miles as a daily run…dare to dream.

On another subject, I was getting a rare massage this morning from J and realized that the sheet smelled funny. I pulled the bedding off and found that I’d sweated through everything–again. We can’t figure out why this is happening and it is a mystery to me. I was waking up soaked in sweat a few months ago, but that stopped. I haven’t felt sweaty. The sheets aren’t wet, yet puddled under me and only me, below our layers of blankets over the air mattress that is our bed (and thankfully, for another reason of many–it is easy to clean and quick to dry) there is a pool in the shape of my body.

It seems even more bizarre considering that we turn the heat down at night and I freeze in bed. Freeze to the extent that I routinely pull the covers over my head to trap more warmth and then cuddle J’s body until he kicks me away. He is the one who overheats at night, but I am the one with the lake beneath me.