Yesterday I boarded a plane for England. Once in my seat, I actually dropped off to sleep pretty quickly, even missing out on the take off. I woke up about an hour or so later and looked out the window to see the snow covered Alps. I was just about to reach for my bag to get out my camera when I remembered that I’d left the camera behind in my room in Rome. Bugger. Maybe next time.
Because I’d had no time this weekend, I was determined to get my long run in this morning. I set the alarm for 7 am, but didn’t get out of the house until 9. Hey, I was tired.
I returned to my old stomping ground, Port Meadow. Stashing a bottle each of water and Powerade in my usual spot, I headed out along the canal to run three loops around the meadow and a little bit inside to reach my 14 mile goal.
For a while I was reunited with my bovine and equine friends as I ran amongst them for about a mile. They greeted me with enthusiasm. And by enthusiasm I mean total indifference. Eh, at least it wasn’t rage.
The run itself was fine until about two thirds of the way through when my left knee twinged and my quads started to feel heavy. It slowed my pace considerably during the last loop, but at least I didn’t give in to the urge to walk.
Once I got home, I finally remembered to try Legs Up. It actually seemed to work, taking away my knee pain. I think this makes me indebted to Viper now. I don’t like that.
As I’m sure you all know, Paul Newman passed away on Friday. He was a fabulous actor and great philanthropist and he will be greatly missed. I’ve had a crush on Paul Newman for ages. As Ellen can attest, I had a poster of Newman from the film Cool Hand Luke hanging above my bed at college. His presence ensured I had the sweetest of dreams.
Rest in peace, Mr. Newman.
I hope you all have a great week ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.