Hello.
Boy, where did those last few weeks go? After a superlative January, in which I clocked up more than 150 kilometres, I was all fired up to continue the running mayhem through February and March, but instead a string of
events manifested itself which reduced my February mileage to somewhat
less than 150km (
) and my March mileage to zero. If, that is, you don't count running between panic-stricken chaotic episodes and fighting the tide of angst-riddled maelstroms of uncertainty and powerlessness. Suffice to say that my RC-quietness has been the result of a combination of work, both paid and unpaid, and minor, but time-consuming disasters, such as floods, tree branches punching holes in the roof, gale-force winds ripping the sides off my shed and even a power surge destroying my computer (and, on that score, let me assure you that surge-arresting power boards don't necessarily bloody-well work!)... and well, the next thing you know, 7 weeks of my life have disappeared somewhere in a misty fug and the running shoes have gathered enough dust to render them indistinguishable from the box of old photos and Christmas cards I also keep under the bed.
Anyway, perhaps unusually for me, the imposed lay-off has not dampened my enthusiasm at all, but like some perambulatory acnestis, it remains an itch I cannot scratch. Not, at least, until the current season of insurance claims, real estate transactions, weddings, funerals and other property and family-related Himalayan-like matters have been well and truly sort out.
Sad to say I haven't even caught up with everyone's postings here, so I've no idea how well the Brighton / FLM / Connemara et al training has gone. Hopefully I can catch up with some of that over the coming days. Sadly however, it looks to be another couple of weeks at least before the chaos settles and I can get back into some sort of routine myself.
Anyway, I must get back to doing some (paid) work, time from which I have had to crib to write this much.
Adieu, fellow run-lovers.