Monday, 16 November 2009

6 Weeks to Go...

and it's time to tally up the cost of Alabama.

I've missed two long runs due to jetlag and because it felt so much more important to spend precious US time with family. I compounded this by dragging them all to IHOP twice for ridiculously large breakfasts and demanding junk food and biscuits all the time. I regret none of it.

This morning I woke at 0700, after 10 blissful hours asleep in my own bed. I'd managed two hours on the plane the night before, however Ross couldn't sleep and spent Sunday in Schipol dazed and stupefied, with large black haunted eyes. For the record, no drugs were involved.

I changed into my comfortable new running garb and headed out into the darkness for a 40 minute jog. Running with Sarah has reminded me that running can actually be FUN. Sunshine and good chat make running a very pleasant pastime, something I'd not really grasped staggering about through shards of glass and dogshit in the rain and darkness back in Scotland. So this morning I thanked the sky for being dry and invented a whole heap of imaginary friends to run with. I don't talk to them, mind, I just make sure one of them is slightly ahead and setting a good pace. (That's Neville. He wears stupid little running shorts and I hate it when he beats me.)

4 comments:

  1. Please tell me his shorts are pink with white trim, and he has a white sweatband.

    p.s: B recording this morning (HOORAH) so we will head to the park this arvo...will do three laps, baby screaming or not. Will be jogging four well before Xmas. Woot!

    p.p.s: I cheated when we raced, you know. And you still beat me.

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  2. ciao da Waihi Beach... glorious summertime... great for running...

    tanti baci,
    Nonno, Mamma, sorella e altre parenti

    (We lie, it's raining and miserable).

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  3. His shorts DO have a white trim. And they are as ghastly as you could imagine. However, he's not coming out tomorrow due to the miserable rain and wind. He's a pussy.

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  4. You should always talk to your invisible friends. Surely you've lived in Glasgow long enough to notice that all the raving lunatic locals do!

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