At 6's and 7's

I love that phrase.

And it seems to capture me perfectly right now.

Better, too, to be at sixes and sevens than to be as crazy as a polecat with no whiskers.

Another of my grandmother's phrases.

Things that have defined me, seemingly being left behind.

Change. Something with which I struggle. Mightily.

And having had terrible weather in Boston, preventing me from running.

Though yesterday I was getting stir crazy enough to think about attempting freezing rain over wet snow on brick sidewalks.

Thankfully, I thought again. Given my clutziness, I likely would have come down with a broken ankle!

Today, though, the outside of the park, with the sun and the warmer weather, and the mind-numbing usuality of the run, fit my mood really well.

Glad I got out at all!

My hamstrings were feeling looser after the first mile and a half and, for most of the park, I just picked it up in places and tried to expand my lungs, which are definitely getting weaker with no speed to speak of.

Then, on the last hill on Flatbush and continuing back to my house, I took a page from Ivy League and sped it up.

Ok. Not as much as he would have. But I'm trying to attempt things that are hard for me to do.

Like speeding up at the end of a run, when I've had a set slower pace for most of it.

Like change.

Enjoy the sun, everyone!