The death shuffle, if you’ve yet to encounter it, is the sort of running you do just before you fall over or pass out. You’re well and truly out of glycogen and your brain has long since left planet earth. The only thing that keeps you going is muscle memory, momentum and the fact that the finish line is a long way off.
That’s the death shuffle, and it ain’t pretty. You can spot a death-shuffler by the glazed look in the eye, stride length of around 10cm or less and tendency to bump into things that aren’t there.
I’ve done a bit of death shuffling in my time, most notably in my first attempt at a full marathon in 2005. That entire stretch between Fitzroy Street and the Shrine was a bit of a blur.
Thankfully, last night had nothing like that. I did 26km and, while it may not have been super-fast, it felt good. I even finished strongly, running the last couple of ks at 15kph plus.
Rudeness
One of the things that bothered me about yesterday’s pool incident was that the guy wasn’t young. He was 60 if he was a day, and should definitely know better. A few minutes later, still in ear-shot, he said:
“I hate summer. I hate global warning. I hate mankind but I love women“
It looks pretty bad written down, but it sounded worse.
It reminded me of another incident about 12 months ago. I was taking the bub out for a walk in the pram, when we came across an elderly woman who was making clucking noises in our direction.
Normally that’s a good thing. New dads think their kids are the cleverest, best looking things ever and we like to have that confirmed by strangers. This woman, however, was completely out of her tree.
She agreed with me that he was lovely, and looked like me, but then went on to ask if I would adopt him out. I was a bit taken back, as you would be, but she appeared to be serious, so I just said “no thanks” and left, sharp-ish.
What is it with old people these days? They have no respect.
No sleep
I finished the run last night about 9pm. After showering, drinking and forcing some food down a reluctant gullet, it was time for bed. But could I sleep? God no. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, feeling like someone had plugged me into the mains.
There’s a reason people do their long runs in the morning.
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