three legged dog
He was lame
as a three legged dog
screamed as he came
through the fog
If you are the Light
give me a light
buddy
wherever we run this morning we find the wind is already there. we run through the woods in luminous single file. the wind is there. we regroup on the road. the wind is there. we run up a hill and it blows back into our faces. we retreat back into the tree's. the wind is there, it mocks us, rustles our jackets and tousles our hair. juan, the clubs other foreign runner is not there. he is on holiday in another time zone, it's the middle of the night and he's fast asleep. neither is jerry, he's recovering from a 50 mile race in his union jack shorts. i battle in the bluster, as lame as a three legged dog, my body stiff, unresponsive and out of sync. in truth i hate running on these days and hold various conversations with the rest of the group in an attempt to take my mind off the run. we discuss marathon training and zimbabwe and speak in code (time on my feet, 8 minute mileing, fartlek, bonking) when i exhaust this strategy i lapse into solitary and grumpy silence at the back of the pack. i curse the wind. i tell myself to htfu. i wish that i'd stayed in bed. eventually i get home. for the rest of the day my legs ache, i've had tougher, longer and faster runs without any ill effect. strange.
Bhundu, those the runs that make you or break you. I know you will return stronger to take on another leg. :-)
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