I've thoroughly enjoyed my calorie renaissance the past few months, well it started before Kepler really and built momentum over the last 4 months. I could argue it was all the jobs fault, I was just too stressed to run and just really needed that beer, but that would be utter bollocks. I did it because I enjoyed the time off and the break from stinking fucking chicken and veggies and a diet of 5am starts and 120K weeks, 3 cheers for wine and cheese.
Good day at work, turned a corner. Got home, did 6K in LC. Fuck knows why, but my right toe was killing today, labouring up the hills yesterday I think.
I came back from my poultry 14K run today, the girls were out and as I tucked into a cup of green tea (with mint!).
I sat there watching the gardening show on ABC with that old fellow who has the most profound lisp I've ever heard, anyway for the first time in, well ever I guess, I watched the whole thing and actually enjoyed the experience. What does this mean?
I'm having a green fingers moment, or as I passed my 32nd birthday I have turned a corner and my youth has passed and it's time for me to get knee deep into tulips and cauliflowers?
Run was crap, still unfit and should have gone earlier.