My Garmin is broken. The lights were on, but no one home. Now it's just dead. It's not so much of an issue, but if I go on a bloody long run, I bloody well want to know how bloody long it was. I've soft reset, hard reset, searched and researched looking for answers...but do you know what, I'm done with the 'bezel'. It's time to move on. Can't be arsed to send it back just to get the same thing back. It's never really been robust or simple to use. But running lately without it, does feel a bit weird. Kind of like I'm running for free, un-logged miles. I'll get over it. Except I won't. I need to know how far I've been, because miles (or K's) are the currency (bragging rights) of distance running, especially if you have goals in mind.
Again this weekend I've been glued to the athletics. Such quality racing in the 5k this morning with an epic battle from Mo Farah, but this time getting Gold. And the debate rages on still about Semenya and whether she threw the race. Likewise controversy about Pistorius being left out of the SA 4x400m final squad. They got Silver, he gets a medal, but no place on the podium. I was again interviewed for Sky on the issue by Orla Chennaoui who is genuinely interested in the whole affair and I think will produce a balanced piece next week. The Worlds were truly inspirational.
A good run with James this afternoon. I'm going to say 10 miles. It certainly felt like it. Imagine the disappointment if it was actually less. Anyway, we ran the other way up the Bollin and all the way to Hare Hill Gardens. Now that is a bloody long way. The sun was shining again and the big discussion points were tents and being self employed. Not linked. James again had his new extremely yellow top on, but this time he chose to accessorise it with some alarmingly yellow trainers and a new pair of orange socks. I had a white running vest on, inside out, it was noted! James has had man flu all week, and that was his primary excuse for what he was anticipating as a slow run. I had promised a route with distance, so it was going to be slow anyway.
I keep saying it, but it really is beautiful up there. There is a point when you look back and on a day like this, you can see all of Manchester and beyond. It doesn't sound an appealing view, but what I like is that each time I go up there, every time you turn and look back, the view is different, the light deciding what to reveal and what to hide. James and I always part with great intentions of kick starting our running efforts back into some shape. Great intentions indeed, but how it was today was just fine. Good chatting, good running.
