Up and at them early this morning. Linda and I have been running with some regularity, something I thought was in my rearview. The old body is holding together, mostly. Only running 10-15 miles per week but with a healthy dose being track specific. Getting ready for this coming Sunday’s Jim McMahon Track Meet, my first track event in 30 years.
I don’t do traditional fun. My joy is in the suffering necessary to fly. Busting my butt, and Linda’s too. Flying 40s, Fast 50s, Hard Hundreds, Difficult Deuces, Thrilling Three Hundreds, Quality Quarters, you get the idea.
We’re entered into the 100, 200, 400, and 800. I’ve got a couple of scalps in my sight. My bar may not be as high, but I’m never too old to fly!
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