god’s truth

There seems to be some misconception amongst you lot about my post yesterday, in which I said something along the lines of:

Julia Gillard: there’s something about her…

Now, it’s true I may have embellished the truth slightly, as I am wont to do, but as they say in the classics, many a true word spoken in jest. Or, as Geoffrey Chaucer would have it: “A man may seye full sooth in game and pley”. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Now, those of you who were thinking this blog was just a light-hearted bunch of musings on amateur distance running: recant forthwith! I’m only 104 words into the post and already I’ve covered sex (or at least unrequited lust), classic literature and senior figures in the Australian Labour party. They should include this in the year 12 English literature syllabus, it’s that good.

Where was I? Ah yes, Julia Gillard. If I were 20 years older, or if she was 20 years younger, and I was single… I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t consider it. And, if Ralph magazine is anything to go buy, I’m not alone.

Running
Moving on to less controversial subjects: you may recall there was a small running event last weekend. No? Get with the program – here’s the original post. Anyway, since then my head has been feeling fine, but everything else has been a minefield. My thighs – usually one of my best bits – feel like somebody has been poking them with red hot pokers. Not good.

Anyone who happened to be watching me walk downhill on the way to the train station on Tuesday would have had a good laugh. I looked like some drunken, pained, effete pirate in civilian clothes.

My usual remedy for complaints of this nature is a couple of good hard laps of the tan. It never fails.

In that spirit I schlepped out for 13km around my local streets last night, then backed it up today with 12km, including two tans. Now, as predicted, every thing’s fine, so long as I don’t attempt something as outlandish as trying to bend the legs.

Note to self: never enter an event that involves running up a mountain. Ditto running down a mountain, which is somehow worse.