Okay. Too much time has passed since I last posted. First, a little recap of Thanksgiving vacation. The Living History Farm race was
exhilarating as usual. The temperature was above freezing at race time and there was no precipitation. Basically perfect conditions. I didn't see Mr. Loincloth, who has become a fixture at the event. Maybe he is too old and too cold. There were plenty of exuberant teenagers, many of them sporting costumes: Smurfs, naked sushi, Gumby and Pokey, Team Speedo, Occupy LHF, etc. We've all run this race before, but it's easy to forget how much fun it is and how difficult the course is. Pavement, gravel, grass, corn field, forest, water, rolling prairie. I got out to a quick start to avoid the masses. I followed Collegeville. There has been quite a bit of streambank erosion over the years, which makes for more challenging creek crossings. The Iowa Beef Council was a sponsor again. That means beef stew and buttermilk biscuits afterwards. I also had a cup of hot cider and four doughnuts. Mmmm, doughnuts.
We spend the night after the race in Omaha with my sister. Then we stopped in Lincoln to visit old friends before we made the rest of the trip to Hastings. I ran three times in H-town, continuing my practice of three runs per week. Here's the
route. The unique thing about these runs is that they were morning runs. I was out the door before the sun peaked over the horizon. I am not a morning runner, but during a week of gluttony there is really only one time when running is advisable. Plus, it the morning is a peaceful time to run. Except when the wind is blowing 35mph. I forgot how windy Nebraska is. When I say 35mph, that means 35mph nonstop, no respite. Not gusting up to 35mph - any gusting is on top of 35mph. It was great! It's an experience that is good for the senses. The wind makes all sorts of interesting sounds. The low, eerie hum over power lines. The ripping of a flag desparately trying to avoid the northerly bluster. Corn stover bouncing down the street and dragging over the cement. I felt like a human sail. Stymied in the headwind, almost running in place. Then at my back, pushed faster than my legs could turn over. I'm glad it wasn't cold.
Anyway, Thanksgiving was good. I felt like a goose fattening up before the long journey to Duluth begins.