Ten observations: running at dawn in late June

1) A startled cardinal alighting indignantly the street, flicking his tail in reproach as I walk down the driveway to start

2) A leopard slug creeping inevitably across the sidewalk, plenty large enough to be spotted and dodged, leaving a trail that will shine later in the sun

3) The red foxy-fox rustled out of the marsh, the tip of its luxurious tail a white spark as it hurries away, wary of my approach; it pauses to look back at me before disappearing in a heartbeat

4) A band of pink circling just above the horizon line, separating two shades of blue sky on these clear, cool-ish, and dry mornings

5) Distraught mallards frantically flapping into the water, every time I loop past them; their harried quacking and honking follows my back

6) This spring's goslings are now indistinguishable from the rest of the gaggle making a mess of the path, faithfully ignoring me unlike the volatile crew which colonized Paper Mill Park

7) Deer picking daintily in the grassy spaces below the rim of the lake, unaware (uncaring?) that they are actually in the middle of a residential plain

8) A woman doing intervals, igniting a competitive flare and necessitating a reminder to my legs that they are not out there to run fast today

9) Darkness under the trees on the connector trail, requiring a delicate touch so as not to wind up meeting the roots with my face, which I wipe repeatedly as I pass through web after invisible web

10) A rumble, then a roar, as the early freight train trundles through the heart of Newark below, its blaring siren an alarm clock for anyone living along its route

Cold coldy cold

Because the sun was out, and I couldn't bear another run on the treadmill, I ran outside in spite of the cold. The air temperature was tolerable (20F) but it was the knife edge of the wind (20 mph with stronger gusts) that was brutal. Still, I enjoyed running on the very frozen trails and even trudging through some packed snow here and there left over from last week. I was coming up into one of the most exposed parts of the run, where a thin ribbon of trees cuts across a wide-open hayfield, when I must have disturbed a gathering of turkey vultures. They flapped their heavy wings and settled themselves on branches of a sleeping tree. Earlier in the week, I had seen this picture on Facebook:

and that is almost exactly what this looked like. I laughed, and then I got the heck out of there.

Week # 5

Summary for week ending Sunday, January 31, 2016:

Number of workouts: 7
Total miles run: 44.11
Average miles per run: 6.30

Miles in January: 184.42
Miles in 2016: 184.42

Toward the end of the week I was able to get off the treadmill and get outside, which was quite a relief. Saturday I did the first tough running of the year (first hard running since Des Moines), 4-minute hard intervals sandwiched between a couple warm-up and cool-down miles; Sunday was a perfect day for a medium-long run (12 miles) with sun and light breeze at 50F. Despite the tougher run the day before, I felt very good today; one of those runs that will go in the books as truly great. In the middle of the run, hundreds of Canada geese came soaring to the reservoir I was running around, swirled noisily over the water for a few minutes before settling onto the lake's surface. I was glad when they finally dropped out of the sky, as the risk of being hit by a goose bomb was considerable, there were so many flying above. They honked and squawked and splashed such a ruckus; seemed like every goose in the state of Delaware must have been there, but after about half an hour, another squadron sailed in and stirred up the hundreds already on the water. A group of sea gulls was banished to the railing on the bridge to the control house, and the ducks that had been there first vanished completely. I'd never seen such a thing.

A woman walking her dog asked me, "Will you run a mile for me?" so I dedicate mile #4 to the lady wearing the Wilmington University sweatshirt, walking her dog with her husband.