The Broad Running Broad

If it’s not one thing it really is another around here.

Do you all remember a few weeks back I mentioned my hip flare up? The good news is that I’ve finally gotten past that …. just in time to pick up a sore throat. Granted, the sore throat is the less annoying of the two ailments, but really? The week before running Columbus?

By this point you’re probably wondering what my stupid ailments has to do with ducks. Hang in there, I’m making my way there.

The other day I was looking out back for Diamond, the neighborhood indoor-outdoor cat I feed. My place backs up to the woods and the pond, so I get a lot of critters at my patio. I have some bird feeders for the cardinals and had just re-filled those. My place has ducks that live here year-round, although I don’t see them as much once the weather cools down. You can imagine my surprise to look out back and see four mallards – two males, two females – out back picking up the feed that had fallen to the ground.

It’s corny to admit, but I look for symbolism in everything. Too much has happened in my life (so far) for me to believe in coincidence, and I’m a firm believer that if you ever want clarity on life, look outside. Going outside is the better option weather-permitting, but you all get my point. My ducks were coming back daily after a period of time when I never saw them.

A quick Google search says that ducks are positive symbols. They’re playful and cheery, but can also be aggressive when threatened. Some of the meanings attached to them can include happiness, good luck, purification and transformation.

The past month with my various ailments has been stressful, but at the same time, I’ve also had some offline goals come to fruition. Are my little ducks coming back to tell me I’m about to get a lucky break somewhere, such as during the race?

Then came this morning. One of my favorite October activities is going on a hike down in Hocking Hills. Last year it was the Old Man’s Cave – Cedar Falls – Ash Cave out ‘n back, which was exhilarating and exhausting. Originally I planned to go back to Hocking Hills last Sunday and hike the rim trail at Conkle’s Hollow, then Rock House, and finish the day with a third excursion at Cantwell Cliffs. Instead I woke up feeling like death and spent that day in bed, sleeping way more than usual.

But this weekend was happening no matter what, and I left bright and early this morning to make it so.

The rim trail at Conkle’s Hollow is strenuous, with an ascent that’s not for the faint of heart. I had a few moments when I wondered if this was really a good idea a week out from a full marathon. Reaching the top of my first climb and walking along the rim to see the blue sky and the lush greenery confirmed it was.

I did wind up falling down when I was coming down the wooden steps though. Wet leaves are not my friend, although I was able to catch myself on the railing to not go tumbling downhill and do any serious damage to myself.

Rock House was Stop #2. I had been there last in the spring of 2019, so I was familiar with the terrain. The trail here is steep but shorter. I told Mom I would take her to Rock House in the spring.

Cantwell Cliffs was my last stop. This was my first time at the cliffs and I think of the three spots, this one is my favorite. The descent into the gorge was both exhilarating and terrifying, since the steps were pretty narrow and truth be told, heights is my greatest fear. Then I was in the gorge with some other hikers, and I looked up.

I know I talk a lot about liking to do things such as run long distances and hike so I can be reminded of how small my problems are in the grand scheme of the universe. And once again I had that small feeling as I looked up at the trees and the formations above me. All the stupid little physical ailments, my stress from some life changes coming up and wondering how next Sunday is going to go – in the grand scheme, they don’t matter one bit.

Therefore, it really will be alright.

Now I’m back to my little ducks out back. My lucky ducks, as I’m going to call them. One way to interpret them coming back after some time elsewhere is that they and universe are telling me fortune is with me after all, and the next steps – literal ones with the race and the other literal ones in my life – are going to be better than I’m anticipating.

A little faith never hurt anyone.

But then again, ducks are also associated with laughter. So I could wake up race morning with a brand new ailment, like ultra noisy megaphone farts that hit me during the race. The crowd could hear the, um, sound effects, thinking we’re under attack and bam! – Allison is being tackled by the police and arrested, charged with assault with a biological weapon (I have no idea if this is a real charge. Just go with it.)

Maybe this is a sign the universe is laughing at me after all and I shouldn’t be optimistic.

You know what? I’m going with lucky ducks. That’s a more uplifting thought to end a week on.

Yours in life and running,

Allison