Sunday morning in the backyard. Six weeks and two days until The Long Run hits stores. It's going to be 90 degrees today. Now might be the best time to hit the trails and log a few miles before it gets too hot. But I'll ride the Peloton instead. Weekends are when the electric bikers and horse people crowd O'Neill. The solitude I crave is nowhere to be found. Weekdays I have the place to myself but Saturday and Sunday is for the masses.
We were wrapping up the Saturday long run. The creek is high in O'Neill so we couldn't get across. What was meant to be ten miles turned out to be a little less than seven. But I threw in a few hill loops ("slopes") on Twisty and a hard uphill tempo Mesa finish. What we lacked in mileage we made up for in quality. I didn't love it but I was OK with it. The slow build as we approach track season means more emphasis on flexibility to prevent injury. Better to do too little than too much.
I woke up with the stomach flu yesterday. Still have it. Banished to the guest bedroom so I don't get Callie sick. The mattress isn't firm enough so I couldn't get comfortable. Spent the night tossing and turning, waking up every hour. David Cassidy's "I Think I Love You" played over and over in my head. Why? Who knows with fever dreams. It could just have been ABBA or John Denver, which would be equally confounding.
I usually blog on Sunday while watching NFL Red Zone. The rest of the week is for regular creativity. But tomorrow is the Southern Section Cross Country Championships and I'm a little preoccupied with race strategy, the rain currently pelting Southern California, and oblique terms like “green arrows” and “tight spread.”
