The day was unseasonably hot. I was also not in the best of shape.
In years past, I've placed in my age group and won an apple pie for my effort.
Around mile 5, I knew pie was out of the question. At mile 7, I got tingley. 10-12 are a blur of white hot sun and the taste of salt tinged despair. The end was okay.And alas, no pie. This is the day I remember now when the temperature drops into the single digits.
1 comment:
Keep that dream of apple pie alive, man. Keep it alive.
Let's go for a run on the Charles now that a 1st-Week-of-Winter thaw is upon us. I've been hibernating for 3 mos and it's time to stretch the legs...
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