But all the colours mix together, to grey

Of or relating to an achromatic colour of any lightness between the extremes of black and white.

I’m (still) weary. Yesterday I ended up leaving the office 90’ later than planned. It was dark, cool, verging on crisp, and the streets lit with what was almost a full moon. Weaving my way through Fairfield, I felt light on my feet and energetic. Yet as I approached the university before turning west towards home, I was exhausted. The fatigue was equal parts physical and mental.

How much longer do I run? A week, month, just until Boston? My left shin hurts. What next? It’s officially cold out. Will this be my last marathon? I’m chilled. Why are these thoughts running through my head, do I acknowledge them or pretend I can’t hear? I should’ve left earlier, I’m starving. I’m thirsty, I need a pint.

Today was only marginally better. With only having to pop into the office for a few hours this morning, I stayed in bed an extra 30’ longer pretending to sleep. I need to work on my imagination. My run into the office was a drab mix of greys.

[photo taken along the Galloping Goose Trail heading into Victoria, having run for 10’]

Training:
Thursday: steady 1:04:09
Friday: A.M. easy 34:57, P.M. TbD