Well “the kids” have been run for yet again, I wonder if they realise all this is happening on their behalf?

Race report
I woke this morning, as expected, with several red hot pokers jabbing into my lower back, courtesy of a Saturday spent gardening. Bloody gardening. Also, what seemed to be the beginnings of a cold. Thankfully I had a 3km run to Ringwood station in freezing pitch blackness – that’s always good for colds.

The run cheered me up a touch, but Ringwood station had the opposite effect. When I finally made it into town I was accosted by a veritable blogging triumvirate of Jojo, Em and AJH, all of whom were looking sprightly, cheerful and raring to go, in which respect they differed markedly from me. A few minutes worth of good natured banter followed and then what felt like a v. rushed start. I was expecting 20 minutes of “entertainment” from a Mix 101.1 DJ. Bummer.

There were two starts, for some unkown reason. Jojo et al headed down the low road (typical) while I took the high road. That was the last I saw of the three blogidos.

The first 3km were pretty good, comfortable, fast and breezy. I made it over the Bolte feeling fine, even taking note of the scenery. Between 9km and 10km I started to feel a touch grumpy. Morsey was there yelling encouragement.

Note to self: must remind Morsey that “JRuns” is not actually my real name.

I continued grumping over the Collins street bridge then cheered up at the casino, past Flinders street and managed a piffling little kick at the end. It worked out slightly over 56 minutes, so I’m not too upset.

After collecting water, lollies, wifey and offspring in that order, we all trooped down to Transport, where a rather bemused functionary refused us entry on the grounds that the place wasn’t open for another 45 minutes. Petty, I call it.

I felt it beneath my dignity to be seen lining up outside a pub at 10:15am, so we headed home to the blessed anonymity of the Eastern suburbs.