Tuupplop

A hot afternoon 6km trot about the lake today, taking short strides to mollify the calves and Achilles with acknowledgment of their suffering caused by Thursday’s unprovoked sprinting.

Another race night, first a 400m, a big stride out 73 secs, then 200m, wore the flats, but ran out of steam, 32.4, had to contend with a precocious 10 year old on the inside lane alongside, was telling myself I would take it easy but those midget footsteps were like jungle music to my id.

a cartoon character is standing in front of a brick house with his arms outstretched ALT: a cartoon character is standing in front of a brick house with his arms outstretched

Actual footage of me in aforementioned ‘exoskeleton’ kit

Laundry? May I suggest a black kit, never needs washing, the longer you wear it the stronger it gets.

I have a nagging feeling that’s i may have borrowed the line from a Danny Kaye movie?

What is it about runners who tweak in a pique, when they could have been better advised to shirk the twerk?

So is Hills Lane parkrun the flat one?

Art thou Romeo

In this self taken photo a middle aged man shelters in the shade of an elm tree on a hot summer day, the white light of the southern sun caught in its high branches, ultra violet radiation blankets the cloudless blue sky.

Hosed down and fed after another hot run, now recovering in the garden in the last skerrick of shade.

Aftermath of today’s running, sweat soaked shirt and sweat stung eyes.

Shook up tonight’s recovery 10km run about a quarter of the way in, with two 5 min tempo efforts and a 3 min walk after each. Held a 5 min/km pace on the gravel path during the efforts. Don’t know what to make of heart rate keeping to zone 2 for all but the last minute of the second rep?

Should help motivate and show improvement in my speed and endurance, and be more social. But on other stopwatched hand there is also obsessing.

Will need a recovery day, and more structure to my running and gym workouts if I’m to make a good it.

Track running last night included some ready-set-go action with like-minded individuals. Good to get amongst it after ten years out even though I was at back of pack.

Post run affogato kind of day.

Slow striding in a singlet for six sweaty kms

Too hard to run *that slow*, you mean? (You look to have been moving 20 seconds a kilometre faster than the recommended pace. 🧐) I agree, these recs don’t take into our account our special abilities. Smart to have stayed under the village speed limit. 👮🏻‍♀️

Rain? Oh yes. I remember now. Wet air, made a racket on the roof. Didn’t think they made it any more.

Hairstyle is red, tiles are green, can I borrow that robe, still much more to be seen

As Annie Vesper awoke one morning from uneasy dreams they found themselves transformed in their bed into a too-gorgeous insect.

Quite the metamorphosis

Today’s 6pm 5k was rescheduled to 730 am due to the heat forecast being hostile to human survival, and my verdict is that it was a bold move that paid off, no deaths and a more vibrant, coffee-friendly vibe, would try again.

T’ai chi practitioners in their pyjamas are dwarfed by mature eucalyptus gums, beneath a sky so blue it might have been a by product of a John Coltrane chord progression.

From this morning’s stroll, as a four day heatwave begins, a posse of t’ai chi practitioners (t’ai cheetahs?) hug the shade of the eucalyptus tree, a cultural counterpoint to the usual cricketers and lawn bowlers who use this park.

Kate Bush inspired running up that hill today, each one a 20m gain in elevation over a 300m climb, with a further 100m on the plateau to the turn around point. 8 repetitions for 6.4km total. 45 steady minutes.

Anyway, thanks for listening to my Ted talk. Meep meep!

The theme song makes no mention of being consumed, only that the coyote was after the roadrunner and, if caught, the roadrunner would be through (threw?). Since through ‘what’ is unstated, who is to say that this was not a gate to erotic pleasure the likes of which could end civilisations?

It is far more plausible that it was the primal urges of an unrequited sexual desire that forced the coyote to continue in his quest, with his deepest sense of fulfilment impossible to come by unless his partner can be not only caught but allowed to surrender.

No, I’m referencing why the coyote willfully submitted himself to play that role, despite it never resulting in a meal, when we all know that highways everywhere are caked in delicious roadkill that coyote taste buds find irresistible.

I’m not talking about the motivations attributed to the coyote in the moronic scripts that he was forced to enact day after day as a modern day Sisyphus, pushing boulders up to cliff tops while the acme corporation pecked at his liver.

Sure, controversial and considered heretical by many loony tuners, but please hear me out, as in my opinion it is important that we all recognise as a foundational conditioning of western philosophy that the coyote did not want to eat the roadrunner, he wanted to f*ck him.