Wednesday afternoon
Lower-body ST & 1/3 mile micro recovery run around the block
My garage was downright hot, and it usually stays pretty cool in the summer. Only managed 225 deadlift, did lesser maxes on everything else too. But as often happens when I start out weak on the heavy lifts, I ended up paying more attention to some of the lighter exercises at the end of the workout, ones that are often neglected or rushed. This time I tried to work more on my form with the "Tipping Bird" or "Drinking Bird," a hammie exercise I incorporated a few months back, but haven't gotten very good at yet. It goes something like this, only I have two dumbbells in my hands and let them touch the floor on the lean forward:
Thursday morning
8 miles, 2:20 am start
Continuing with this week's dream theme, I woke up at 2am from a dream where two Makhuwa clans were feuding by throwing heavy everyday objects at each other, things like the mortar for milling grains. I was on one side. With no spears or arrows, it was easy to dodge or bat away the incoming objects, no one was getting injured, and so the battle was quite futile. Around noon they decided to take a break. The chief from the other side asked the chief of the dialect group I was doing research with if he could chat a bit with the white man, having already heard a lot about me. So I went over to their side. I told him I thought the two sides should make peace. He got a kick out of the fact that I knew the word for 'peace' in Makhuwa:
ithawala
I lay there for a bit, wondering whether I should go back to my MAF sleep or go out for a run. I hadn't ever started this early. But the more I thought about it, the more running seemed like the right thing to do. So off I went, not really sure what route I would take. I felt like trying to run a bit faster, so I took my headlamp along, in order to avoid all the acornic squirrel shrapnel (Zetti's term I think), but attached it at the waist to avoid tunnel vision (I think Jason suggested this, but it might have been someone else). I again left the Garmin at home though.
By the time I got up to Larpenteur, the street that forms the border between St. Paul and its northern suburbs, I was feeling pretty good, so I decided to keep going east to Como Lake, instead of turning up north towards my son's daycare, which has been my usual routine lately. I hadn't been out by the lake for a while, not since my 11.5-mile long run of several weeks back I think.
I was sweating pretty good--the humidity was still 86%--but I've more or less acclimated to it now after almost a whole week of daily slogging through the stickiness. I had the streets pretty much to myself, so I was able to avoid most of the tree-debris on the sidewalks. I ran in and out of patches of cricket soundscapes throughout the run. (Or were they cicadas?) I liked how the slight swaying of my gait caused the cricket racket to flip back and forth from left to right ear, kind of like a stereo delay effect. It matched the rhythm of my lilting waist light. Kind of like a minimalist Philip Glass piece with an equally minimalist lightshow.
Como Lake and its turn-of-the-(last)century pavilion were quietly beautiful in the soft urban luminescence. It would've been nice to have gone out on the still waters in a canoe. By this time I was approaching a tempo pace. As I rounded the lake and began heading back towards my neighborhood, I thought about stopping to clown around at my favorite stretching spot a bit further on, a pedestrian bridge in a little wooded area with a super-high handrail, but as I entered the dark shadows of the trees, I smelt a faint trace of cigarette smoke, and decided it would be best to stick to the well-lit street. Probably just harmlessly high teens partying in the woods, but I didn't need to find out for sure.
I ran past the nearly deserted fairgrounds, and marveled a bit at the transformed landscape of temporary barriers and parking instructions, rides, parked trucks and trailers, and noisy fans blowing in the barns, cooling the poor prized animals. The last mile was kinda hard, and I had to shut it down towards the end when I began to feel some strain on the inside of my left leg. I also seem to be feeling the onset of PF or something on the bottom of my right foot, although it might just be sole stimulation or some bruising. Still, it may be a sign that the daily running is catching up to me, so I'll have to stretch and massage extra good today.
Anyway, still loving the early morning runs.
followed by therapeutic weed extraction.
I thought it was Colorado and Washington State that grew the therapeutic stuff.
I always wonder about shoe policy on golf courses - .
As teenagers we used to walk on the golf courses barefoot in the summer under the moonlight. This morning's run past a golf course on Larpenteur recalled those magical moments. I love the feel of well-trimmed grass. It's one of the most pleasant surfaces, right up there with wet sand and cool tiling. To prohibit barefooting on it is just wrong.
I did get the AHR a little high when I sculled a bunker shot into a water hazard though, but after a calming drink of a beer or 2 and everything was good with the world again. 
Still on the hot side out this way with temps in the mid 30's C., but the humidity has lessened somewhat. Getting a early morning run in tomorrow morning before heading to the golf course again, on a side note, one of the golf courses in my area posted on their site that footwear must be worn on the course, first one I have run into in 2-3 years of golfing barefoot.
