After very little searching around, I found out that the plural usage for ibis can be a few different words. There’s no wrong answer almost. I’m going with the one I think sounds best. Here, we see a trio of ibis (collective plural) making their way across a brick street in St. Petersburg, Florida.
After being away from here for what seems like a long time but really wasn’t, I have a renewed appreciation for sights like these. Maybe it’s a just a new appreciation, actually, because I don’t remember ever taking interest in only-in-Florida things. Until I moved away, I hadn’t ever realized how much the place you live in influences everything else. Thanks Omaha, and Bloomington, too. But really, thanks Omaha, because now I won’t take a place I love for granted. Or, maybe only now do I realize that I love this place.
Now to the run, I guess. It was good! 8 miles at 9:20 pace. I ran down 1st North, winding around whenever I had to stall at major intersections, and never had to stop once, for traffic or for cramps. The halfway point was just over the Treasure Island Causeway (a drawbridge), which conveniently went up just after I turned around to start the return journey. I had to stall for a few minutes but I kept running and it went back down pretty quickly. I felt strong most of the way through, but the heat got to me there at the end.
I ran in the Hoka Bondi 5, which I purchased yesterday, on Global Running Day. I did not try on the Clifton, which is a shoe I think I would be more inclined to like, because it’s more responsive, so I’m told. Alas, they did not have it in my size. But, in all the excitement of Global Running Day, I got caught up. The Bondis felt like Hokas feel. Big, cushy, and unnecessary in the best way. My legs almost feel better following the run. No joke. However, I would not try to run at any pace resembling fast in these shoes. If they were a car, they would be an ’83 Fleetwood Brougham. Even turning a corner is hard in these things. They will definitely find a home in the rotation, though.
Short reflection on the journal lately:
Like I do sometimes, I feel the need to put limitations or labels that carry limitations on what this can be or should be. When I do this, I end up boxing myself into a space that doesn’t feel like somewhere I want to visit each day. I want the journal to be something I gravitate towards, rather than a task. Most of the time I want to do it, but when I don’t, it’s usually because it feels a little like work. It shouldn’t. This is my journal, for me. To write in when I have a good run, and when I have a bad run. To write about running, or to write about everything else besides running. There are no rules except honesty and faithful practice. Now proceed.