I'm just back from my 15.1 mile run. This seems like an odd distance, but as I explained yesterday, I have struggled with the 15 mile distance in the past to the extent that I vowed never to run exactly 15 again.
It was a beautiful winter's morning. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, the frost was sparkling on the ground, the birds were... somewhere in Africa sunning themselves. There were many runners and cyclists out and I reflected that this is my favourite thing about this city: that I'll never go for a run here and not encounter a fellow athlete somewhere along my path. I was running with a very good friend of mine, and by mile 3 we had discussed several profound topics and worked out some solid solutions to worldwide issues. The conversation quickly deteriorated from then on, however, and by mile 12 we had concluded that he was full of hot air and I was full of shite.
I was feeling good, inside and out. My historically troublesome IT band was quiet, as was my cantankerous ankle. I felt like I could run all day. Suddenly I realised that I had an opportunity to overcome the ghosts of running past. "I don't want to run 15.1 miles," I said to my friend who was checking his GPS watch. "I want to run 15." And so we ran exactly 15 miles, and then we stopped.
The spell was broken.
It was a beautiful winter's morning. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, the frost was sparkling on the ground, the birds were... somewhere in Africa sunning themselves. There were many runners and cyclists out and I reflected that this is my favourite thing about this city: that I'll never go for a run here and not encounter a fellow athlete somewhere along my path. I was running with a very good friend of mine, and by mile 3 we had discussed several profound topics and worked out some solid solutions to worldwide issues. The conversation quickly deteriorated from then on, however, and by mile 12 we had concluded that he was full of hot air and I was full of shite.
I was feeling good, inside and out. My historically troublesome IT band was quiet, as was my cantankerous ankle. I felt like I could run all day. Suddenly I realised that I had an opportunity to overcome the ghosts of running past. "I don't want to run 15.1 miles," I said to my friend who was checking his GPS watch. "I want to run 15." And so we ran exactly 15 miles, and then we stopped.
The spell was broken.
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