I Run

After about 4 years of serious running I guess I've finally received one of those rites of passage: someone yelled "Run, Forest, run!" when I crossed a busy intersection in Keene. At least I think that's what he yelled. It was a bit garbled owing to the reduced social skills of the communicator who for some reason thought he'd get some kind of response yelling this out of a moving car window (and also partially to the Doppler effect since he was, after all, travelling 65 miles per hour). So it actually sound like "Blah, blOOORRRBBerrrr, blahhhhh....". But after a few moments of consideration I figured there were just enough syllables in that gibberish to resemble "Run, Forest, run". So I decided that's what he said. Cool beans.

This was me on my runs this weekend. Ugh. I'll catch that rabbit eventually. 38 or so miles for the week.

It seemed they'd been missing or running behind me for quite a few weeks. That's a strange feeling. On Wednesday I ran my slowest 3 mile race since I first started running. The next day I started up Sweet Pond Rd. with my legs still trying to catch up about a half mile behind me. So I just gunned it, legs or no legs. They caught up to me at the top and took me back down with wings. Friday was recovery, a reacquainting of mind and body. The heat and humidity on Saturday soaked me from head to toe, but the sprints felt good. And today, my scheduled 12 turned into 14.5, with plenty still left on the road. That's 40.5 for the week, a good start. Seventeen weeks until Clarence DeMar.