the lurgy is over

Ahh, “lurgy”. It’s not the nicest word is it? There’s something about it that reminds me of that instant just before vomiting.

Lurgy

Still, it’s appropriate.

Thankfully, last week’s sickness has more or less departed the scene. The chest is back to normal and the nose has resumed normal service. Thanks to all readers who left messages of support through my ordeal.

Yesterday I even went as far as a long run, taking in such local sights as the Arndale Centre Video Busters, the back of Bunnings in Bayswater and a good portion of Dorset Road. Lovely.

As I was still in the tail end of the aforementioned cold, there seemed little point in pushing the pace. The whole thing was done “on feel”. Not surprisingly, my body “felt” like running fairly slowly, especially at first. 31k in 2hrs 20. The route is on Mapmyrun.

Poetry
I haven’t jettisoned my new-found interest in poetry, despite the above lapse into prose. During the run yesterday I amused myself by trying to pick out the metre in the various song lyrics on the old empythree player.

Leonard Cohen has some good stuff, as one would expect from a singer who was originally a published poet:

If by chance I wake at night and ask you who I am,
Oh take me to the slaughterhouse, I’ll wait there with the lamb

And Dylan:

At dawn my lover comes to me and tells me of her dreams
with no attempt to shovel a glimpse into the ditch of what each one means

That last line gets a bit out of hand. That’s okay, it’s Dylan, and Dylan can do whatever he likes.