winter challenges: food and running

All summer long, salad sat at the center of my eating patterns. I mean, you can pretty much throw anything in a salad, after all, and it works. It’s nutritious and tastes great.

Summer did not involve a whole lot of effort going into cooking anything, except for pasta, grains, and the occasional veggie burger.

Then, snow and ice arrived, and it seemed that my whole palate changed.

When I came in from outside, all bundled up and still cold, the thought of making a salad made me shiver. I just wanted to warm up.

The greens began to wither in the fridge as my food thoughts ranged to all things warm, like the vegan meatloaf  I wrote about here – the perfect winter comfort fix.

Chili quickly became a go-to meal. Vegan mac and cheese became an imperative. Lasagne became compelling.

Comforting, filling food took center stage. I wanted stuff I could cook ahead, too, since all I wanted to do at the close of the shockingly short daylight hours was curl up in a blanket.

That whole shorter day thing turned out to be problematic in other ways, too. Along with the snow and ice, it quickly became harder to make myself get out there for my runs. After breaking my shoulder a couple of years ago, I found myself very reluctant to run in the dark, and it’s pretty hard to find time during the day.

So I was into this winter mode of operation – slowing down and filling up – just long enough to notice how it makes me feel different. I don’t like it, either.

I’ve been feeling kind of sluggish and full and sleepy and uncomfortable and like being a couch potato. This is not my style.

Worse, this whole winter thing is just barely getting started. We’ve got months to go.

As I sat and listened to an acquaintance the other day discussing his two heart attacks, diabetes, and various hospitalizations, it occurred to me that I need to be proactive about my unhealthy winter stagnation and feeding tendencies.

The first thing I did was bring salad back. I need my salads. I missed my salads. Comfort food is great in small doses, but salad has to be the main dish for me.

I also did a reset on my hydration, which I realized had become reduced to pretty much anything warm – coffee, tea. I’m back to drinking water in more summerish quantities.

Running is more problematic. I am an outside runner – that is how I get zen. Nevertheless, I may have to resort to using the local indoor track if it’s too frickin’ cold or messy or dark out. This is hard for me to do.

On the weekends, I can make my outdoor runs work – or at least walks or hikes, which is fine if that’s all I manage. The point is to keep moving all through the winter.

I’d like to remain on the move at least five days a week, even if it’s shorter distances than I’m used to.

Since my running is hampered, I can give more love to core and strength exercises. Something to shoot for anyway. Maybe even break down and return to yoga.

Given my current couch potato frame of mind, this is actually a pretty challenging agenda. It’s so important, though, for my physical as well as my mental/emotional well-being.

Wish me luck. Brrrr.

answers

 

I was searching.

I was exhausted and frayed and a little frantic.

I thought if I could just get moving, I could move toward some kind of answer, something to mollify at any rate, a little peace.

I was already cold and tired. I could not bear the thought of more cold.

I pulled on my coat anyway. I practically fled, pulling on my gloves as I went.

I charged, desperate for answers. I kept walking and walking, through my fatigue, searching, frenetic.

Nothing was working. Everything was dysfunctional.

No answers.

So I asked.

As I barrelled along in the cold, I spoke out loud.

I can’t see them, but I know they are there, somehow.

They are there. Aren’t they?

I walked and I cried and I argued and I pled for help, and finally I sang.

It was the chant I learned oh so many years ago. I sang the chant as I rushed through the messy, snowed-up sidewalks. I could just begin to sense the edges of peace.

And then, suddenly, there it was.

The one voice in all this universe from whom I needed to hear right then.

And the dam loosed, not answers, but the warmth and the peace to find them.

Everything is a mystery, and nothing is a mystery.

slow motion

Wasn’t feeling the greatest this weekend, so my runs ended up being walks. Yesterday, in an effort to feel better, I tried mixing it up by walking more in the business area of town, but it kind of backfired on me.

The businesses, mostly closed, looked sort of dreary to me. Even the Christmas decorations looked depressing. I ended up just feeling cold and kind of unhappy. I dejectedly gave up and headed back home.

This was a complete surprise to me because, normally, getting myself in motion improves everything in my world. I couldn’t quite believe it.

As I got near home, I decided to give it one more shot by doing one of my routine routes – a route where I know every tree and bump in the road.

That did the trick. I was into it for just a few minutes when everything started clicking again. Yay!

I ended up feeling a lot better, both physically and mentally. My spirits perked up and I felt a little energized for the first time all weekend.

I think perhaps that the key was feeling a little more connected to nature. The more urban environment I tried at the start just didn’t speak to me like the trees on my regular route.  

I had a heck of a time making myself get outside at all in the first place. Feeling fatigued and just a little under the weather were great excuses to stay inside and lounge around. Nevertheless, experience has shown, time and time again, that getting in motion just plain makes me feel better – and it’s good for the soul, too.

hopeful

I head out into a very grey, cold morning. At the start, I’m feeling kind of alert and crisp and on. I make myself go a different way, just to mix things up.

Patches of dark on the pavement make me nervous. I mince along carefully, stopping and testing a few times to see if it’s ice or what. Because it’s all over the place. Never quite convinced, I spend the entire run mincing.

Everything’s quiet. Hardly any traffic. I watch another pair of runners leave me in the dust. That’s okay.

Up a long boulevard with bigger houses, silence. I see a man ahead, also in the road, walking in my direction. I skirt huge piles of icy leaves.

As I near the man, I begin to hear him. He looks at me angrily, daring me, and keeps on walking and talking loudly to the air.

I turn the corner.

Head down another silent street. Notice the smashed, frozen pumpkins. The bicycles sitting forlornly out in the cold. The rake left in the yard amongst the unraked leaves. Various yard decorations, straggling campaign signs, and lawn chairs sit forgotten and sad in this cold.

The flurries pick up, and gently sting my face.

Car comes along, and I swing up onto the sidewalk. A man approaches on a bicycle and makes no room and no comment. I move out of his way.

I notice I am slow this morning. I check my pace, and sure enough, even for me, I am slow.

That’s pretty slow.

I decide to be okay today with being slow. Part of it, I realize, is because of my very careful steps, wary of ice and the many obstructions along my path.

It’s also this world I am traversing, strange and frozen this morning. It feels lost and hostile.

In this moment, I am a reluctant traveler. Still, I am out there, making my way.

I pass a person walking, all bundled up, face hidden underneath a hat and scarf. I smile and raise my hand in a gesture of hello.

For just a moment, I see their eyes. They silently raise their hand in recognition.

I take a breath, noticing it, and head for home.

chilly run

I admit it. I really kind of had to fight with myself today to get outside and run. But, hey, it was so worth it!

At issue was the temperature. It was below freezing.

Even though I fully expect to run through at least most of the winter with lower temperatures than this, I looked at the temp this morning and was just. not. feeling. it.

I put my running gear on anyway. Laced up.

Then, I proceeded to mill around my place, finding a variety of tasks to facilitate my procrastination.

I eventually noticed it, bucked up, and headed out.

Even though we had quite a snow yesterday, the sidewalks and streets were clear. Yay! 

My gear was just right, and I didn’t even go through that awful frozen-at-the-start phase. I felt pretty good.

First thing I noticed was a snow fort. Haven’t seen one of those in years, and it was awesome to see that some kids were inspired by the snow to build one yesterday. Totally cool.

As I passed the snow fort and headed along, a man approached me rather deliberately. He wanted to know how to find the soup kitchen.

Made me thoughtful about other folks’ struggles, especially in this cold season.

Even though the sidewalks seemed clear, I studied the pavement as I trotted along, checking for ice or slippery patches where the leaves were still piled up. I broke my shoulder a couple of years ago, and really don’t want to repeat that experience!

For all my resistance, the weather actually felt good. It went from cloudy to flurries to sunshine and back to cloudy while I ran. The cold made me keep on at a decent clip. It was invigorating.

I was having so much fun that I spontaneously broke out into song. Funny part was that it was my count I was singing. One thousand one, one thousand two, etc. up and down and all around the scale. Go figure.

Four miles down and I headed for home, feeling awesome.

Chilly? Bah!

wind run

I don’t know why a windy run always takes me by surprise, but it does.

Yesterday’s run reminded me, again, all about wind. There’s all that resistance as you’re heading into it, and the pleasant relief of turning a corner and feeling it swoosh in behind you as if you are suddenly light.

For just a moment, it reminded me of my sailing days of long ago, tacking into the wind, making slow progress but getting there nonetheless – or the pleasant rush of a downwind run, maybe wing-on-wing or with a spinnaker.

As I was running, several flocks of geese passed overhead. I waved and called out, “Bon voyage!” I doubt they heard me, though, because they were going fast on the wind – like Mach 5 fast. It was crazy.

For a minute, it made me want to fly. I felt as if I almost could, and I flapped my arms a bit as I ran. Just as quickly, I realized, I am pretty happy just the way I am. I must have been going downwind right then.

The leaves were blowing everywhere as I trotted along. The wind has done a good job of undressing the trees. There were huge heaps of color here and there wherever I went. Many of the trees are already bare, but there are still quite a few blazing with colors from green to yellow to orange to red.

I am planning to do a 5k next month. I say this because I realized as I was running yesterday that I have very conveniently failed to sign up for said run so far. This is a clear sign that I am leaving myself the option of NOT doing the run. If I am leaving myself that option, there’s a very good possibility that underneath all my good intentions is yet another intention to not make the run. Why is that, anyway?

It’s good to sign up, and shoot for a goal. To try and do better than you did the last time. To show up, anyway. It makes you work harder as you prepare for the event. So I’ll sign up tomorrow. I will.

I really will.

Oh, and a little update. My new running shoes? They are absolutely awesome!! And the little twinge that was beginning to bother me in my left knee? What do you know – it’s all good now. Shoes make a difference. Lesson learned!

sunshine and shadow

A really nice run late in the day.

It started out kind of rough.

I was really aware of how closed and tight my body was feeling. I focused on relaxing. I paid attention to my breathing.

My mind was all over the map and anxious. I decided to count the entire run – very slowly. This leaves very little room for, you know, thinking. I noticed that counting slower improved my pace, too. Go figure.

It was chilly out, but the sun was shining. Where I was running in shadow, it felt cold. Where I was running in sunshine, though, I could really feel the warm. I started noticing the light and the dark as I approached them.

It reminded me of one of the first quilts I ever made – a simple variation of an Amish Sunshine and Shadow pattern. Lots of bright colors juxtaposed with black. Everything, of course, solid colors.

After I got going long enough, I unzipped my windbreaker, and my hat actually made things too warm.

I found that by the end of my run, I felt relaxed and my mind had settled down. I looked up at the blue sky and felt grateful.

So many reasons to run.

perks

Super tired this evening, but I made myself lace up and get out the door anyway. The brimming moon showed itself as I made my slow progress, filling me with a happy wonder. Here and there the autumn leaves lit up the trees. The cool air soothed.

My thoughts loosed and flew free under that big moon. So much to see, to feel – and to think I would have missed it if I had given in to my fatigue and shuttered myself in for the evening. 

By the way, it’s not quite a full moon – that happens on Oct. 24. Turns out it’s called the Hunter’s Moon, so named for shedding light on autumn prey.

This also happens to be the time of the Orionid meteor showers. Gotta love those shooting stars!

So many amazing things out there in the universe, if we just take the time to look.

 

on the Pere Marquette trail

Pere Marquette Rail Trail made for a lonely sojourn in the cooler temperatures this weekend. Lonely was just fine with me, allowing me to soak in the solace of nature and all the autumn beauty. It was a peaceful and soul-warming place to be, far from the endless stream of stress in which we all seem to be caught up lately.

The trail is a long one (30 miles), and I only did a short portion of it, but it was just the fix I needed.

Leaves and pine needles scattered themselves along the trail. Water burbled along underneath an old railroad span. I tucked my hands down in my jacket pockets with the chill.

Geese flew overhead, calling out enroute. They are like old friends to me.

Another sound captured my attention on the part of the trail close to town – the brisk clop-clop of a horse pulling an Amish buggy mixing it up with traffic along the side of a nearby roadway. I noticed with interest that seeing something like that through vegan eyes evokes a feeling that is a far cry from the quaint charm it might have evoked at one time.

So, too, the calves in their little individual sheds that I saw on my way to the trail.

There was a time when I would feel a simple delight in such scenes. No more. I am too conscious now of the suffering inherent in our use of animals. The animals themselves, though, do inspire with their individual beauty and selves.

My trail excursion came after a thoughtful visit to a small church. A mere handful of people came together there, along with two small dogs that had the run of the place. It was the closest picture of community I’ve come across in quite a while. 

For all our memberships and ‘involvement’ in things, we’re increasingly isolated by divisive rhetoric, fear, and the stamp of our personal value in terms of purchase or production – in this world where our very selves are commodified. Churches are not exempt from the phenomena, all too often both generating and exacerbating them.

Happily, this little glimpse into a functional community revealed none of that.

This was just a few people wanting to do good in this world, in the simplest of ways – together.

It was a nice picture to carry with me onto the trail. The peace and beauty of the place, coupled with that picture, translated into a hopeful feeling.

People – wanting to do good in this world, in the simplest of ways. Together.

Kinda sounds like a plan, you know?

autumn kicks in

While Hurricane Michael was devastating the Panhandle, up here in Michigan, Mother Nature was quietly taking the autumn season up a notch.

Temperatures dropped, skies got grey, and winds blustered. Time for jackets and hats and gloves.

I love it. This is my favorite season, and one I have missed for several years. I am so happy to be soaking it in.

Also soaking it in, a delightful dog. As I walked her, she clearly reveled in all the windy activity.  I couldn’t help but laugh as she excitedly attempted to chase down the falling and skittering leaves. The cool air just made her smile.

Those bi-colored eyes of hers searched the world around her with curiosity and joy.  I just love the way she looked high up into the trees and the sky.

Yep, a perfect fall day as far as I’m concerned. Blustery, fresh, beautiful, and a playful Husky with whom to share it.