Quantity, not quality…

*Gigi up at the hotel, during a dog walk this week*

When life gives you lemons, you just have ring up the store and remind them that you ordered oranges, and they’ll remind you that you ticked the box that says they can pick something similar if your chosen product is not in stock, and you point out that nobody EVER squeezed a load of lemons into a glass and drank the juice unless they specifically wanted to look like Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, and the young lad on the other end of the line says he’s never heard of her and would I like to speak to the manager, and… sorry… where was I going with this?

*Ireland and Lions rugby player Josh van der Flier was in the shop during the week, so we set him to work in the yard…*

Abingdon Marathon looms ever closer. Over a month out, so we’re getting close to the part where you actually have to factor in a taper. And realistically, the weekend after next should be our last long run.

This week I managed six runs, partly due to the other two lads flying on ahead in the challenges once again, leaving me trailing in their wake. And I have finished last once more, with about the required 55k. A reasonable 7k on Tuesday, a nice 6.5k with Mark on Wednesday, a reasonably paced 5k on Thursday, a more modest 5k on Friday, and then a real slog of about 7.5k on Saturday. The sort of run that makes you question a lot of life choices. And more specifically, why am I running right now?

But I adhere to the old adage that any run is a good run (that isn’t actually an old adage per se; I just made it up a while ago and decided it sounded worn enough to pass as running lore…) and also that you must suffer for your art. Though if my running has an equivalent artform, it’s Absurdism. Plus I occasionally get in from a long run looking like one of Picasso’s subjects.

So I was skeptical that Sunday’s run would be anything other than a catastrophic shitshow, but it turned out to be okay in the end. 23k in all, taking in the canal (who, me?) and a few rounds of Castletown Demesne. I met a fellow runner and guitarist from our Lep Sessions, and he kindly shared a few miles with me, which helped break the run up nicely. About 2:11 in 5:43 pace.

*The highlight of today’s run were these two monster dotes on the steps of Castletown House*

And that’s your lot for the week. I have chosen to make my stand against the unstoppable tide of AI and its killer robot army. My first act of rebellion is to ignore my Garmin watch. I appreciate it’s trying to be helpful, but to hell with that. Yesterday, before the run, it said I should have a rest day. Pah! Today, before I hit the start button, the suggestion was to do an easy 6k recovery. Feck that. No killer robot is going to tell me what to do!

The revolution will not be televised. Though it might briefly appear on Garmin Connect. The first cohort of humans to get the chop will be runners. Let’s face it, we’ll be very easy to track down…