My memory: Stand on a hill at dawn and look over a valley, the valley floor covered in fog. The fog is broken here and there by hills, escarpments and the outline of trees. Like the cows in Fr. Ted some are small and some are far away.
If, like Fr. Dougal, you’re lost click here.
If you’re still lost I’m just trying to say that I generally forget most things but other things are never forgotten because the fog of life never clouds them over.
One of the small cows is that around this time of year I remember that I get all middle distance and thousand yard stare about my running. The dark November evenings with red wine and open fires and the fresh memories of summer running tend to boost your confidence.
A combination of on-line discounting of running shoes, my shoulder healing fairly well and doing more thinking about running than actually running (which leads to the delusions of ability that cause me months of regret every year) are leading me to plan next year (from a running perspective – the rest I just make up as I go along).
I’d like to try the Italian Job again. Possibly without being injured and with an eating plan that involves being able to eat past 65km.
Apart from that maybe a marathon or two to keep the boredom at bay and so that I can make it look like I actually race rather than jog.
It’s Movember as well:
This was last week and I’m clearly not from the selfie generation. I tried to do the impish thing with the big eyes and innocent look but I think I just scueeded in making myseld look (more) like I might have chemical imbalances in my brain.