December 2008

[Sweder]

Huzzah! A second run this week . . . whatever next? As expected it was a tad sluggish, adding a minute on to Tuesday's time. Still, I got out there (when once again I really didn't want to) so I'm pleased with myself.

A soggy old day in the hills, mist and light drizzle shrouding pathways sticky with the kind of mud that seems to want to suck your very soul through your boots. On the upslopes of Mount Harry I encountered a herd of beautiful cattle, their flanks adorned with what seemed like thick brown velvet. The muscular beasts munched steadfastly as I lumbered by, paying no heed to me or the dogs. On the return they were still there, working their way through the straw-white meadow. The sun had poked through above the distant hills to offer a blinding backdrop. Against the stark white glare the animals looked like a collection of small black holes, patches of anti-matter dotted across the hillside.

Home to some stretching (something El Gordo mentioned yesterday stuck and I worked dilligently to force my legs into incredibly uncomfortable positions). My audio company came from Rob Bernie's Planet Rock Connection. Eight songs linked by a common theme with an odd one out. I got the connection after three songs. Flash by Queen, Come back and Finish what you started, and Dr Feelgood, Dr Feelgood. I couldn't see the link until I remembered that Feelgood were fronted by Lee Brillo-pad - yes, it was cleaning products this morning. Odd one out was Spocks' Beard with Waste Away. My track du jour? The incomporable Led Zeppelin with that masterful piece of subliminal product placement Daz-ed and Confused. This started as I clawed my way up Black Cap, breath rasping, steam rising from my horribly hunched back. The key change in the song, where John Paul Jones lets fly with his remarkable bass riff whilst Jimmy Page seems to completely lose contact with reality, crashed out just as I launched into the steep, slippery descent. I hammered my legs in time with the driving beat, dipping under 3 minute kilometre pace for a few seconds. It seemed my thighs would surely detach from my hips at any moment before, just in the nick of time, the drop levelled and rose up the west face of Mt. Harry, gravity riding in to rescue my burning lungs. I was, to use the venacular, grinning like a loon.