Sore and Happy

Yes. I am sore. From a slow, seven-mile run.

Yes, that is pathetic.

No, that does not bode well for the 27th, when I'm allegedly running 26.2 miles.

(I'm rethinking that!)

But I am very happy that I was able to run the seven miles. The vivacious redhead, who's been tsk-ing me (rightly) when I've been running recently, even said that my stride looked good!

I can't fully celebrate yet. But running around the outside of the park was likely to tweak my leg more, as it has a slant that I was running on in the bad direction and it has a really big downhill.

We had a new person join us. He was really nice, as far as I could tell, although he didn't say more than a sentence to me while we were all running. I wonder what was going through his mind as me and the vivacious redhead were chatting about school, coffee, shopping, etc.?

Likely, "My lord. Running is supposed to be soothing and contemplative. What in the H@@@ are these ladies yammering about and why did I forget my earplugs?!"

Heh. Too bad. If you want me to shut up, you need to make me run faster.

By the way, I would have failed flag class. I had to identify almost all the flags asked about in the crossword yesterday by their cross-clues. That's what you get when you try to include the nerdy people into the World Cup excitement. The sports clues are predominantly baseball and tennis, with a bit of golf thrown in. So, they can't possibly ask something about the NBA finals or about the soccer players in the World Cup. Too hard! Unlike asking for the conductor of the Chicago Orchestra from 1924-1932. Or what every country's flag looks like.......

Yes. I did just out myself as a tad culturally unaware. I'll remember, however, for at least the next week the colors in Romania's flag.