In the shower yesterday afternoon, I watched mud and mulch running in rivulets across the tub and into the drain, and thought, "May mulch, mud and blood pour down like water. . ."
I scrubbed some black spots, and found skin beneath. I scrubbed others and found bruises; from whence they came I do not know. Blood from numerous scrapes and scratches had actually solidified into scabs, and I carefully scrubbed them clean so as not to reopen the wounds. Pink insect bites, looking an awful lot like measles, dot the entirety of my left leg . Why not the right as well? I don't know. Ahh well. . .all that marked the end of an unusual Wednesday, usually a cross-training day.
My calendar called for mulching at The Plantation, and getting things ready for the owners' return on Saturday. But because of a Fourth of July race on Friday, I also needed an easy run-- that way Thursday, the day before the race, could be a rest and recovery day. Since I was already at the Plantation, I opted to run that trail again and was grabbed by a few blackberry bushes, briars and weeds on the narrow trail. Then I weeded the gardens, cleaned the house, grabbed a snack and headed to the church, where I weeded and mulched some more and got nabbed by a Japanese maple, an evergreen creeper and other weeds and plants. And so, at days' end, mulch, mud, blood and water poured down. But so, too, did joy -- from a job well done, anticipated flowers, a well paced run and a day spent in the sunshine.
No comments:
Post a Comment