No Run Today

Despite best intents. Ah, well, tomorrow is a new day. Work got in the way of running today. I think this was the first time in a long while, and I fought it fiercely. But it did.

iPod repair is proceeding slowly. Just realized I need a tinier Torx head than I have to remove the motherboard. I got the case open, unscratched. Well, no worse than it was from 6 months of riding in my pocket. No large pools of LCD came out. Big thanks to Jon’s brother for LCD tips, BTW.

Work was aided by a bitterly cold wind. Which makes me think that it’s karmic retribution for bagging on Zephyr.

So here’s a couple of ideas in Wind’s defense:
1. Chris’ riff on “No Excuses, Sir.” That’s wind, baby. No hiding. No downhill. No cheating. No excuses, deal with it wherever.
2. Wind is a training tool no matter where you live. In the ‘burbs in Houston, my best runs were the ones on windy days, where there finally was a challenge besides merely putting one foot in front of the other.
3. Drafting. If you haven’t, take up road biking. Then find a couple dozen people who like to do it too. Learn how to pick up a wheel, and revel in the joy of instantly upping your top average speed by about 3 MPH. Then segue into dreams of riding in the pro peleton at average speeds of upwards of 30 MPH for a race like the TDF. That’s for the entire race.
4. And completely un-fitness related: Without wind, there’s no sailing. No prospect of building a boat in your backyard, rigging it up with sails, and going literally anywhere touched by the seven seas in the world without without burning a drop of petroleum, splitting a single atom, or dipping an oar. (Note the word “prospect” in the previous sentence.

Chew on that.

Me, I’m going to bed early. I’ve got me some running to do tomorrow. Or maybe swimming. Or maybe both.

But for sure, I’ve got a date with a one year old and a five year old (less three weeks) tomorrow evening that will involve roaring terrible roars, gnashing terrible teeth, rolling terrible eyes (Their mommy participates in this part), showing terrible claws, and will lead to a wild rumpus, complete with a parade featuring a barking dog and two terribly out of tune renditions of “Baby Elephant Walk” accompanied by a baby laughing his fool head off. And maybe cookies.