And we’re rocking and rolling.
Many things still to come (wrap-ups for Ireland and Virginia, as well as race reports), but let’s get to the important stuff first:
Indeed! Tonight, let’s do what we do, and show our support for Beantown.
So, it seems we’re seven weeks out from the Connemarathon. As per usual, I went out for my long run on Saturday morning with my Nathan and Gu’s in tow and hit the pavement in the Park. As of late, my mantra has been ‘just go with it’, simply put, I see how my legs feel in the first mile or two, go from there, and try not to hold myself back.
And then this happened.
While I was supposed to be running at 8:45-8:50, I hit miles 11, 13, 14, and 16 at my marathon goal pace. And truthfully, I’m not even planning on running Connemar at an 8:00 pace. Haven’t we discussed that thing called the Hell of the West?
Regardless, that’s a nice boost of confidence for my upcoming half marathon.
Sub 1:40 or bust. (Please, please let’s not bust.)
“You get very few moments in life where you can be genuinely happy for yourself. This is one of those moments, so enjoy it.”
On Monday night, a discussion was had between His Lordship and I. The weather showed a light coating of snow, some during the wee morning hours, which meant there would be running and frolicking and picture taking on Tuesday morning.
The following morning, we arose to gently falling snowflakes. I flipped on the switch and sprung out of bed while His Lordship arose to make coffee. I was dressed by 6:45 and itching to get out the door. I suggested we do some kind of speed work (should the streets allow for it) and mapped our route, with a stop at the Mall on our way back up the East Drive.
It was a perfect day for running—cold (but not too cold), fluffy snowflakes, and a less than light breeze. When I realized that the roads were safe, I started performing a series of fartleks. His Lordship acquiesced to my less than stellar performance and followed behind me (except for that one time I told him to jump ahead for a snot rocket).
We took the turn on 72nd street and made our way to the Mall. His Lordship stopped and got out his phone to take pictures of Bethesda Terrace. The terrace was as beautiful as ever, and the Mall even more so. The Mall, the only straight line in the park lined with benches and beautiful elm trees, is my favorite spot in my backyard I call Central Park.
“Will you take a picture of me running down the Mall so I can put it up on Facebook?!”, I asked with glee.
He said yes and we slowed down a bit. I asked which way he wanted me to run. He said he wanted me to run South, and slowed down. I looked to him for approval, wondering why on earth he wasn’t snapping photos, and realized he was bending down and grunting. I wondered if he was going to get sick. As he took off his glove, I saw something shining from his pinky finger. Befuddled, I started asking a series of questions, only one of which I can remember was something like, “is this really happening?”
His Lordship was now on one knee, and reached out his hand with a diamond ring.
In the middle of the Mall.
In the snow.
I fell to the ground, saying yes over and over, and took off my glove. His Lordship placed the ring on my finger, and we hugged, laughed, and cried. Those few moments seemed to go on for a small eternity.
As we stood up, I was told to look down the Mall. There stood our dear friend Erica, dressed in all black, witnessing and documenting our moment in its entirety. I ran towards her screaming and hugged her immensely. We spent several more minutes taking photos, laughing, celebrating, hugging, and crying.
As my dear friend Niki stated in the aforementioned quote above, it was a moment that I will always remember, and one that I am genuinely happy.
Genuinely happy with the love of my life.
In our backyard.
In the snow.
Many thanks for all of the love and well wishes. We love you all dearly, too.