That'll Do, Pig
Running is tyranny. The unrelenting nature of waking up day in and day out to a bunch of miles staring you in the face daring you to take them on. The taunt lies not in the miles themselves, I can do them more often than not, but in that as soon as they're done an equally odious workout presents itself for the next day.
I figured it would be easier to get out of the house this morning but was wrong. Got out a bit late but did my planned route anyway. Paid a visit to the Tree. I was half asleep until the horse stables, where I was charged by two dogs the size of ponies. The owner was calling their names in an exercise of futility, and I did my best Erin imitation standing there defiantly and shouting at the dogs not to f*** with me. Oh but they are friendly, the owner said, smiling uncomfortably. They were big, charging and barking I countered. That's what I get for running in the suburbs.
The Tree restored some serenity, and the rest of the run went by, giving me a total of 10+ in 82:44.
That'll do, pig. Until tomorrow.
I figured it would be easier to get out of the house this morning but was wrong. Got out a bit late but did my planned route anyway. Paid a visit to the Tree. I was half asleep until the horse stables, where I was charged by two dogs the size of ponies. The owner was calling their names in an exercise of futility, and I did my best Erin imitation standing there defiantly and shouting at the dogs not to f*** with me. Oh but they are friendly, the owner said, smiling uncomfortably. They were big, charging and barking I countered. That's what I get for running in the suburbs.
The Tree restored some serenity, and the rest of the run went by, giving me a total of 10+ in 82:44.
That'll do, pig. Until tomorrow.
posted by seebo | 10:29 AM
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