Well actually I only broke one rule and it was one of my own rules. I don't pick up free stuff from people on the street, I also don't sign any petition thrust in my face and don't stop for chuggers. There are just too many of all-of-the-above and I find it sometimes overwhelming and sometimes a tad depressing. I especially do not take free stuff thrust towards me in the street; a free sample of Nivea for Men, a goody-bag fro Qantas, a cheap fluro pen from the Cancer Council. Don't need any of it and would rather keep my carbon hoof-print down to the extent of said tat. But today I took a bottle of water thrust before me from the guys at Vision Personal Training on Victoria Road. I had rather fooloshly hit the road without taking a water bottle with me on a route to work that has few water-stops. I was glad of the drink because, despite being a very pleasant 14 degrees this morning, I sweat my arse out and needed a drink. So thanks personal trainer people, but no, I will not be taking you up on the 2 week free membership thingy that you were hawking. What with the several km run most days and, fingers crossed, every day of June plus bench pressing my daughter (low weight, high reps for the gym junkies) I think I can get by without a trainer.
The day had started as most weekdays do with a walk to the dog park, the little monkey on my back. Actually, let me rewind; it had started with me finding a small bit of rubber on the kitchen floor that looked suspiciously like it should be stuck to the bottom of my newest Asics Cumulus. Odd. Sure enough it had come off the sole of my shoe and I'll need to glue it back on. Considering I've run in Asics for many years, absolutely hammering most pairs, I was surprised but I'll not complain about one rogue pair. So, I dug out an older pair, drove over to Kylie's to drop AJ off and got ready to run to work.
I checked my Blackberry to see what time I was interviewing someone this morning; 9:30. Bugger. I then thought sod-it and took the longer way round anyway, which is around Sydney's western edge, passing over a number of bridges which give lovely views of the City out to the east. It is also a bit of a lung buster, but check out this piece of awesome, if utterly flawed, reasoning: I'm fighting off a cold and cough up gunk each morning. Therefore any diesel fumes will coat not my lungs, but the gunk. So meh, I'll run the rush hour along one of Sydney's busiest arterials.
I stopped once to take a picture of the view and twice more to pat dogs, the first a 2yr old Newfoundland and the second a 4month old pug. You would be hard pressed to find two dogs further apart on the size scale. So I made it to work for 9 and by 9:30 wasn't too sweaty and the interview went well and the guy may get the job. Work followed, which was predictably dull, but distracting enough to see me miss lunch. I had a bottle of some overpriced sugar-water and a brownie and, jacked up on sugar made my way through interviewing a guy who will not be offered a job. And then it was near enough time to head home.
Nothing fancy about the run home; straight over the bridge and up the hill to meet Sal and Harry who were at home (for a change) and then a quick shower (handy for washing away popped-blister-blood; little toe needs to harden the hell up) before heading out look at a house I will think about buying for what little remains of this evening.
I really should not have decided to give up the beer this month. Rather than log two runs I simply started the Garmin up again. Here's the map.
Fuck me, that was a lot of life story for very little running detail.
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