you old bastard

A strange thing happens on almost all of my long, event runs. At some point after half way my mind starts to wander and I entertain thoughts of stopping or walking a bit or all sorts of nonsense. I realise this is simply my brain doing its damnedest to stop me. But I'm having none of it. And then I start thinking about the old man. It goes a bit like this, only a bit, because after I've recovered I can't remember exactly what I was thinking when I was, well, fairly bollocksed.

First I think "I'm doing this for you." Then I laugh at the utter ridiculousness of that. Then I well-up, get a bit choked, start to hyper ventilate - quite an achievement considering how I'm breathing at the time - and then I get a grip. I call the old man an "old bastard", have a chuckle, point skywards and I go on. Then I do a bit of analysis of the situation, reassuring myself that I do know better while acknowledging there must be some good reason for this line of thought. And I go on. To date, I've always finished.

I have a bit of a chat to the old man. Weird. I posted a while ago, and I cannot be arsed to search and find a link, that we are all the sum of everything everyone thinks we are. I still believe that. So unless and until I go mad and lose my marbles the old bastard is still with me.

Oh yeah, as well as my brain my right leg felt a bit weird. About three km from the end I had a radiating oddness spreading all around my lower leg. A tad concerned at the time, but fortunately my right is only as buggered as the left today. Phew.