Autumn colours and reflections on why I want to ride

There's not a lot of time to blog today so I'll mostly let the pictures speak for themselves. Yesterday was an awesome day for running - mild and a bit foggy to start, with autumn colours making the route even prettier than usual. Husband joined me for the first half so I took advantage of the opportunity to get a photo of myself on the foot bridge.

And here's one of him.  Looking pretty darned great for a recently retired gentleman!

Though I was feeling good, I didn't make especially good time. The scenery was so lovely, I had to stop frequently to take photos.  There wasn't as much red as I like to see this time of year but the more subdued golds, oranges and yellows were lovely in the mist.  

And there were a few more intense bits of colour along the way.

Especially when the sun began breaking through the clouds.

I caught this image while waiting at an intersection for a light to change. Think it might be my Christmas card!  The red is holly and burning bush.

All in all, the run felt great and my left knee - which has been cranky since its encounter with a rock in June - feels fine this morning, so I hope I can get back to more serious training soon. I'd like to start thinking about next year's running goals. Another marathon? Another fund raiser? Another exotic locale?  Something to get my running juices flowing so I'm motivated to tackle hills a bit more often. :-)

On another topic entirely, I managed to ride my new motorcycle twice this weekend. It was a bit scary at times (who knew 70km/hr could feel so fast?!) but still lots of fun. I'm hoping the mild weather holds for a few more weeks. It would be nice to get in some longer rides before the cold weather arrives.

On the second half of my long run yesterday, I found myself pondering why I want to ride a motorcycle. I don't think it's because I'm having a mid-life crisis. I did that already. :-)  It's really just that I want to try something new - something that scares me a little, makes me laugh out loud and forces me to be more fully "present" in my life.

As Pirsig puts it in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance:

In a car you're always in a compartment, and because you're used to it you don't realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You're a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame. 

On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.

Have a great week! And happy running and/or riding, friends!