June

[Sweder]

A lumpy lope around my local track this morning. Much though my quads have improved after recent analysis and a surfeit of Vitamin B Complex they still feel like raw hamburger.

Once again the track du jour changed hands several times.
I took Alice Cooper, Planet Rock’s morning DJ, along for the ride. He pumped out an eclectic mix that had my mind bopping around from subject to subject. First up the Eagle’s Hotel California conjured memories of the Almahilla Plummet, one of the buildings we passed on our helter skelter descent, all white walls and desert palms, reminiscent of the album cover. Then Steppenwolf’s anthemic Born To Be Wild crashed through my head, helping me to up the anti on the return leg. This looked like a TdJ banker until barely half a klick from home the thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum of ELO’s Mr Blue Sky fell perfectly into step with my by now reasonable cadence. I bounced merrily all the way to my doorstep, amazed by the synchronicity of music and footfall – the opening sequence a perfect match for my end-of-run pace.

Five leisurely miles tucked away.