Sour, sweet, bitter, pungent, all must be tasted

Today was one of those days. It started innocently enough, me rolling over in a groggy hazy and arising out of bed on the left-hand side. I can almost guarantee my right foot touched the floor first, the hardwood more reminiscent of a hockey rink until I light the fire.

Reflecting back on a day not yet finished I can’t recall an event or circumstance that set my mood, but know that it was easier to bear a scowl and wear my bitter crown, albeit slight askew, than any alternative.

My run this evening was no different and I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Again the wind howled but the music, rather than comfort me was a constant irritation, that unseen mosquito buzzing incessantly in the middle of the night.

I took what was once a source of pleasure for granted, no longer finding enjoyment or even comfort among darkened city streets. And not surprisingly given the day, my calves hurt, both of them feeling the effects of the race. No, today was a day that would’ve been better spent sitting silently in front of the fire reading.

Training: easy hilly 1:07:51