7:30 a.m. 8 miles easy.
At 6 a.m. the rain hammered down and woke Mr and Mrs Bam. The house was under siege from the rain. Mrs Bam got up and changed into her running togs and by the time she went out the door at 6:30 a.m. the rain had ceased its bickering and the sun was giving it, Good morning Ireland.
Every morning, the old lady goes out for a 45 min jog (if she saw this, she'd kill me for calling her morning constitutional a jog) and I do my AIS and a few chores around the house. When she gets back, I pootle off down the road, while she showers and gets vittled (US victualed), before she goes out to work, happy as Larry. This morning, however, she seemed riled.
Ever the sensitive one, "What's up with your bake?" I said, after taking a drink. "Overtraining. Yep, overtraining. You should take a few days off." Well lads, 'twas a mistake. She didn't say a word or bang the table. She didn't knock me out. She glared. That's right. She glared. A lesser man than Bam would've trembled and fled. But I stood my ground and winked.
I can't repeat what she said, but one thing's for sure: come rain or shine, when she gets home tonight, her dinner will be ready.
6:30 p.m. 6 miles relaxed. The weather's not looking too good for tomorrow. High winds and rain. So that scuppers my plan to bash out 4 x 1mile off 90 sec's. I'll do a 3.5 mile hill climb at 10k race pace effort instead and do the mile efforts later in the week.
And talking of storms, or should I say a storm in a tea cup - the wife. She came in and sat down to a sumptuous feast* and I now have her eating out of my hand. That's one of the perks of being a half-decent cook. So there may be trouble ahead (storms) but the sun is shining in Bam's house.
*fillet steak and peppercorn sauce on a bed of mashed sweet potatoes fused with cinnamon and ginger, and a medley of fresh vegetables. | 