After yesterday's exciting 14-miler in a downpour, and Saturday's dramatic fall in the National Half Marathon, I was looking forward to today's planned recovery run: 5 miles or so at a relaxed pace in good weather.
To further improve my odds, I waited until after sunup to begin. I also wore two rabbit's feet, had a Tarot reading, and avoided all ladders and black cats. I donned a football helmet, flak jacket, and full riot gear. I mounted an air raid siren on my back to warn nearby cars of my imminent approach, and carried about a half-gallon of mace to ward off any approaching dogs or grizzly bears. [note: the preceding 329 characters may have employed just a touch of hyperbole]
Then, slowly, gingerly, I stepped out of the door and outside. It was a lovely gray morning, birds were chirping, and I had a fascinating podcast to accompany me along my run (Note to self: Do not, under any circumstances, get arrested for a drug offense in southern Georgia).
I ran 5.6 miles, saying "hi" to several runners along the way and thoroughly enjoying myself. The end.
Details of today's run, as usual, are below.