Yesterday, I headed out to the Brickyard again to run hills. Despite the sunburned shoulders, I ran without a shirt and without sunscreen (thinking: it's shaded, it's okay). Being half-dressed is sort of a way of life for me, and I took it in stride as yet another class of 9 year-olds on a field trip laughed at this old guy in the shorts; if they're still around after an hour, I tend to get grudging respect from them, as they can't imagine anyone running that hill that long. [Or maybe they've just run out of insults.]
I quit very early. Perhaps it's the change in weather, perhaps trying to change my running schedule too drastically, perhaps only my short attention span that's making me stop early every day. Whatever it is, it's not good.
I'm looking at Voyageur and I'm sure I can break 9:30, even in the state I'm in, which would be a best for me on that course. I'd like to try for more than that, but I need to do some actual training if that's going to happen.
Meeting cute (and blowing it)
I was standing in line in a coffee shop behind a guy listening to talk radio and a woman in surgical scrubs. The rather strident voice from the guy's device (didn't catch just what electronic doohickey it was) was apparently giving a speech: "There's a cancer in the heart of America..."
I couldn't help but add, "Yeah, it's an oklah-oma."
Scrubs girl snorted. "Thanks for that. I've never laughed at cancer before."
"That's nothing. I've got a whole 20 minute routine on meningiomas."
"You should tell it to me over dinner."
12 hours later, I was a complete loser again at dinner. Apparently, I need jerks to make fun of. Fortunately, they're not in short supply.
Aid Station: Eugene Curnow
2 days ago