It’s been a couple of days since I last posted so I had to go refresh my memory. (What’s it all about?) It appears after much soul-searching I came to the conclusion that I run because I like it.

Wow! That’s the kinda stuff that draws in the readers. It’s profound on so many levels. Insightful; deep.

Since laying such a jaw-droppingly obvious observation on you, I’ve been quiet, postless, busying myself with the pointless inanities of work and the less pointless inanities of home.

Today we tootled out to Belgrave and had a family trip on Puffing Billy. Despite the $35 per adult price ticket, a good day was had by all. I kept up an incredibly entertaining commentary, pointing out significant sections of the Great Train Race course. I’m sure everyone was amused.

Running
I was quite profoundly tired on Friday, but still managed 9 or 10km in the morning before work. Tired again yesterday, I did nothing. This morning I awoke before the dawn and turned out for a 25km-er around my local streets. It’s hard to force yourself to get up that early but, once you’re out, it’s a nice way to be. Watching the sun come up over Mount Dandenong is almost enough to make you forget the knees, the back, the ankles, the thighs, the lungs and the head.

Almost.