November

[Sweder]

Blue skies, crisp and clear; tall winter sun shining, high and white, sharp wind out of the south west adding bite to the still-cool air. Dead-white grasses looking for all the world like old man's stubble waved lazily across the abandoned sheep fields.

Legs still sluggish after recent outings were cajoled into action by Jim Kerr's wonderful refrain, so apt on this outrageously beautiful morning: Alive and kicking indeed. As the miles swept by the lactic acid receeded, loostened legs finding some form. That breeze, straight into my face on the outward 4k, helped boost my homeward pace, aided and abetted by some quite wonderfyl music. Pat Travers, he who once snorted whiskey and drank cocaine, invited us to join in with some rythmn and boogie on the live cut of Boom-Boom: Out Go The Lights. The audience reaction is infectious; you can almost see the clenched fists and straight arms pointing at the stage as they scream the reply.[/align]

I rocked up at the front gate in a shade over 46 minutes, another decent effort. There's still a proud ring of blubber around my middle but I can feel the layers of base fitness building. This bodes well for my goal of cranking up the long run mileage towards the end of the month.