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Murderous March
What the hell was Neil Diamond rabbiting on about in "Crunchy Granola Suite" anyway? Have you ever listened to the lyrics? Crazy guy.
What I was really trying to say was "crunch time", but I've had too much Sweder Brew to be making sense at this time of night, so this becomes a Neil Diamond thread instead.
But before talking about the rapidly balding Neil D, I will mention that after a 6km run yesterday, and subsequent inflammation of the oft-mentioned shins (boring MLCM - talk about Neil Diamond instead - Gad, what am I saying??)... er, anyway. What? Oh yes.
Ocelot spleens. But then everyone does...
So yes, I'm off to see the lovely, but evil Rebecca for the dreaded appointment I had hoped to avoid - the one where we talk about prescription orthotics, for the truth of the matter is that whilst I have managed to maintain my running, the shin splints (boring boring boring) haven't gone away. Not at all. So something must be done.
In truth, the only fear I have of orthotics really is in going back to square one and starting again, but to do otherwise will probably end up in the same place, but with added repetitions of knee/shin complaints, so it is indeed, crunch time. Hence the reference to Mr receding hairline Neil baby.
Meanwhilst, it's business as usual, and bugger the pain. It really isn't much, it's just that it's so damn persistent.
Sigh.
This Sweder Brew really is very good.
Sweet Caroline, I Am I Said, A Solitary Man's Song Sung Blue.
Stupid man...
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Murderous March
