July

[Sweder]

A right old rock 'n' roll fest this morning.
After a fairly hefty gym session yesterday - full-bore 2K row and 8K warm-down on the static bike - I opted for an easy stroll with the muts. Took the DAB for some ultimate shuffle and boy was I ever rewarded. Track du jour nominations came thick and fast - Sympaythy For The Devil (on the anniversary of Brian Jones's untimely demise), The Song Remains The Same . . . but as in Highlander, there can be only one. And, with today being the anniversary of that day in 1969 when a certain Jim Morrison left Earth for a higher plain, there was only ever going to be one winner; LA Woman. I was into the last mile when that nefarious base line started crawling up my spine. As the cymbals and drums pulled in alongside I marvelled at how easily my running stride fell in with the beat. This is another song that contains a fartlek session within it. Recovery as Mr Mojo started rising, balls-out hammer as the tempo reached a volcanic crescendo, Morrison screaming and whooping like the drug-crazed madman he undoubtedly was.

Mr Mojo Risin'* is an anagram of . . . Jim Morrison.
Crazy as a shithouse rat.
Ego the size of a planet with leather pants to match.
A genius; flawed, twisted but a hot-darned rock 'n' roll genius.
Sadly missed.

Five hilly, windy, rain-lashed miles in around fifty minutes.
Heaven

[SIZE="1"]* with thanks to Andy - see below[/SIZE]