N
Nina Stoessinge
Guest
Today I officially kissed Nina the Slug goodbye and welcomed Nina the Athlete back. Feels good. 
I headed out in the early evening, when it was still light and warm out, with a gentle breeze that
cooled things down a bit. I was heading for a new running destination: the Horseshoe Lake. This
wonderfully tranquil little lake just outside the city used to be a mining pit of some sort and was
filled up with water when it was no longer needed. I eyed it on the map and it looked just about the
same distance as my usual longish run (which is 8mi).
The first 3 miles were uneventful, didn't feel very easy even though I just had 2 days of rest, and
weren't, er, scenic, leading through an industrialized part of town where I was the only pedestrian
anywhere around. To make things worse, I missed the first turn for the lake and went a bit too far,
but finally, after a bit of looking around in a quiet settlement of little suburban houses, found
this crunchy path that, as I figured, must lead to the lake. It wound on and on and I was wondering
if this run was gonna turn really good or if I was gonna miss this lake -
Then I crossed this tiny little hill and out of nowhere, there was the lake. Stretching out before
me, wide and blue and just gently rippled by the breeze. It was breathtaking. I stopped dead, and
must have made some sort of surprised little sound, as the youngsters sunbathing by the lake gave me
a surprised look
I set off to run around the lake on a very narrow dirt trail. Met a few dog-walkers, a few cyclists
and a few sunbathers, but most of the time, I was alone. The path wound up and down little hills,
disappeared, reappeared, diverged into even smaller trails, which reunited again. But I was always
running right next to the water, which shone so very blue, lit up by the slanting sun. I was
cruising. It was bliss.
After a couple of miles or so, the trail wound into a totally deserted little forest, got thinner
and thinner. I was just hoping it wouldn't disappear, and at that moment, a duck took off from just
a couple of feet ahead of me! A duck? I thought. Water? And indeed, the trail wound its way into the
swamp, a few steps were pretty soggy, I was running among the reeds and saw a stork lift off into
the air just ahead -
Then, back into the trees, running just a foot beside the water, which was crystal clear. It was
sooo tempting to stick my feet in, but they had no time, they were running.
After six miles, I took a gel and worried a little about the trail being much longer; my longest
distance in the past weeks had been 7.5! But after that gel, when I was cruising next to the water
again, I realized how GOOD it was to feel that strain in my legs, and started pushing a little,
gently. And that was the moment when that sentence popped into my mind: nina the slug has left my
body. This is the return of nina the athlete. I felt strong. Challenged. And up for it. And "ran -
alltheway - home" (isn't this in some modern poem?)
10 miles it was. And now I'm really worked. And it is still great to be a runner.
Thanks for reading.
nina
I headed out in the early evening, when it was still light and warm out, with a gentle breeze that
cooled things down a bit. I was heading for a new running destination: the Horseshoe Lake. This
wonderfully tranquil little lake just outside the city used to be a mining pit of some sort and was
filled up with water when it was no longer needed. I eyed it on the map and it looked just about the
same distance as my usual longish run (which is 8mi).
The first 3 miles were uneventful, didn't feel very easy even though I just had 2 days of rest, and
weren't, er, scenic, leading through an industrialized part of town where I was the only pedestrian
anywhere around. To make things worse, I missed the first turn for the lake and went a bit too far,
but finally, after a bit of looking around in a quiet settlement of little suburban houses, found
this crunchy path that, as I figured, must lead to the lake. It wound on and on and I was wondering
if this run was gonna turn really good or if I was gonna miss this lake -
Then I crossed this tiny little hill and out of nowhere, there was the lake. Stretching out before
me, wide and blue and just gently rippled by the breeze. It was breathtaking. I stopped dead, and
must have made some sort of surprised little sound, as the youngsters sunbathing by the lake gave me
a surprised look
I set off to run around the lake on a very narrow dirt trail. Met a few dog-walkers, a few cyclists
and a few sunbathers, but most of the time, I was alone. The path wound up and down little hills,
disappeared, reappeared, diverged into even smaller trails, which reunited again. But I was always
running right next to the water, which shone so very blue, lit up by the slanting sun. I was
cruising. It was bliss.
After a couple of miles or so, the trail wound into a totally deserted little forest, got thinner
and thinner. I was just hoping it wouldn't disappear, and at that moment, a duck took off from just
a couple of feet ahead of me! A duck? I thought. Water? And indeed, the trail wound its way into the
swamp, a few steps were pretty soggy, I was running among the reeds and saw a stork lift off into
the air just ahead -
Then, back into the trees, running just a foot beside the water, which was crystal clear. It was
sooo tempting to stick my feet in, but they had no time, they were running.
After six miles, I took a gel and worried a little about the trail being much longer; my longest
distance in the past weeks had been 7.5! But after that gel, when I was cruising next to the water
again, I realized how GOOD it was to feel that strain in my legs, and started pushing a little,
gently. And that was the moment when that sentence popped into my mind: nina the slug has left my
body. This is the return of nina the athlete. I felt strong. Challenged. And up for it. And "ran -
alltheway - home" (isn't this in some modern poem?)
10 miles it was. And now I'm really worked. And it is still great to be a runner.
Thanks for reading.
nina