How many second chances do we get in life? How many revisions to a manuscript, how many renovations to a house? How many opportunities do we really get to erase the chalkboard and start a new tally? I have given others a second chance, and I have extracted myself from some pretty unhealthy situations by the skin of my teeth. But I think this is the first time in my life I’ve ever truly given myself a second chance. This is more valuable than any show of faith that anyone else could ever give me.
Thursday morning I ran an easy loop and a half of Sunnyside, a forgiving recovery run after Wednesday’s challenging tempo. I didn’t mind running in the dark; the dawn only lifted herself out of bed as I was uploading Little G’s report to my computer. It felt good to shake the legs out, and get in Day Number Four of running for the week; I was on track for five days for the second week in a row. 3.53 miles in 36:26. Average pace 10:20; fastest mile 10:17; slowest mile 10:23.
Friday was a day off of running but I can’t say my legs got a break. I jumped myself into a lather at the Los Campesinos! concert last night (with @experiri and @vlamidala), and when I tumbled into bed a little after 1 AM my glutes and hip flexors were aching.
I was on the road by 10 this morning, having had a decent sleep-in. I ran south towards Bean’s house in Park Slope, since the plan was brunch and girl talk. The wind was fierce, but since I just had to get there (not get there in record time), I could laugh at the wind rather than push against it. How liberating–to celebrate rather than fight. I know the driving way to my best friend’s home by heart; hopefully I will also come to know the running way by heart. I took Greenpoint Avenue, the followed Franklin until it turned into Kent, then crossed west on Flushing Avenue (nicer than I expected). I took Gold Street to Bond Street (ha!), negotiating through some wacky construction and past some jerks who thought it would be amusing to make fun of me. (Honestly, who mocks the jogger? Losers.) Finally, I turned on to Carroll Street for the last part of my run and discovered this absolutely charming bridge that crossed the northern end of the Gowanus Canal. Okay so the Canal is kind of gross but the bridge, with its wooden planks, won me over completely. 8.22 miles in 1:19:04. Average pace 9:37; fastest mile 9:02; slowest mile 9: 59.
Then it was time for brunch with Bean. Peanut butter banana pancakes, coffee and my best friend: it rarely gets better than that. She didn’t even care that I resembled a sweaty Fraggle, in my running outfit and pigtails. And now we know how many: 2 chances, 5 times running, and 30.77 miles. I’ve got it to give, and I will take it too, thankyouverymuch.