Goodbye, Sosnovka.
For a Colorado girl in a dense city of 5 million, to live across the street from a forested park was an incredible gift. This was my place of prayer and therapy, even if making it across the street was often too much for our pack of preschoolers.
I cried when we moved after 4 years, but still visited often. I would ski while the boys had baseball practice, pulling Ella on a sled roped to my waist.
And then we discovered Park Run, and it was the perfect reason to visit. Rain or snow, light or dark, 75-100 people gather every Saturday morning to run a free timed 5K. This is where I discovered the growing amateur sports community that broke all my stereotypes of Russian society. And this was the key for our nascent cross country team—the perfect events for runners of all levels, even Daniel Jay Coe’s varsity speed.
So today Eric and I went for one last Park Run Sosnovka. Meant to go slow but of course I got sucked in to the ethos and competition. My neural pathways are too well established, even if my body is not ready! I’m not going to state my time to avoid embarrassment from my actual runner friends, but it was not far from my best in the last few years. With no speed work and a base of mostly 3K commuting runs, I was pleased to be able to put in a solid effort. And now, I’m ready to nap— physical or emotional, it’s all exhausting.
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