Thursday, January 6, 2011


No running. Nada. Zippo. I brought my wife lunch and we hung-out and ate and laughed. Then I went home and chilled. Then I picked-up my son from school, came home, made dinner and here I am, looking forward to bed.

Last night I slept 11 hours.

Yesterday the 4 miles I ran on another wet trail were the end of that rope. I am done. I will go to the gym tomorrow, do some weird gym stuff for about an hour and a half. Saturday, a very light run. Sunday, go nuts.

My ankle is a little tender and my allergies a little alive. I will be rested and as healthy as I want to be for the bone I want to pick with Boney Mountain.

Part of dinner.

Kale, apple, cucumber, orange, carrot, celery, red bell, rice milk, apple juice.

Stone IPA.


  1. You go in hard, as hard as you can with both feet and come out with the ball. The mid-fielder you just crushed is rolling around holding his ankle, but no worries, the ref played in Scotlands 2nd division for 12 years and never got his chance at the big time, so he motions and shouts "PLAY ON!" An unmatched acceleration takes you to the edge of the box and with a defender coming from your right you unload a rocket that goes low far post for the winner.
    Have a great race!

  2. Very well said. Like you and I have discussed in the past, when it's time to go, it's time to go. If it wasn't I wouldn't line-up. Am I the fittest bloke in the field? Hell no. But I am going to have a good day, fun, run with my hair on fire, and this will only make me hungrier for the next game.

    And the low post is a nice detail.
    Brought a big smile to my face.