No-no-no-no-no . . . Yesvember

[Sweder]

A misty mountain hop this morning. Hills shrouded in thick fog, air filled with moisture, not a breath of wind. Time for a man to venture out with his dawgs and Planet Rock.

The mud trails were delightfully slippery. My new Supernova's coped admirably, their rugged ridges finding grip where there seemed only gloup. Thanks to Mr Bedford's rejection slip - arrived yesterday - I sported a matching silver-grey FLM training caghoul, having bequeathed my entry fee. Whilst making the usual claims to 'breathe' whilst keeping one dry this turned out to be a portable sauna, rivulets of warm sweat running down my arms to dam up at the elasticated cuffs. Which was nice.

I loped home in a rather warm 44:56, limbs and lungs in apparent good working order. Track du jour was Blue Oyster Cult's Veteran Of The Psychic Wars, a sad lament from a dying soldier, out of hope and ammo, lying in a rain-filled ditch. Hardly a song to warm the cockles but a cracking tune for all that.

The FLM decision, whilst not a surprise, is something of a disappointment. Had I received a 'To Be' magazine -this years' covers are wittily appointed with a Hamlet-esque figure. Mine announced 'Not to Be', so I guess the lucky few will get the other version - this might have clarified my spring race thinking. Instead the thinking remains as clouded as my homeside hills. I won't take a charity place from JDRF. For one thing we've (incredibly at this early stage) filled all 100 Golden Bond places and have an extensive waiting list. Perhaps I need to employ lateral thinking; there are so many excellent yet quirky races out there. Hmm, perhaps a little event-shopping in Runners' World will throw up some interesting alternatives.

And there's still - yaaaawn - the Two Oceans. On my plod today I went over sections of the course in my mind's eye, working out pacing for the early miles, strategies for Chappies, Hout Bay and Constantia . . . oh well. Nothing for it but to get back to work. I've extended my deadline until Christmas.
If I've not decided by then I can just jolly well go on the naughty step.