Date: 15 April 2017
Funny how things just pass you by when you’re not vigilant and half organised. Is it a sign of our already very hectic lives that the thought of trying to fit anything else in, is just too overwhelming? Or are we just plain too damn lazy? Continue reading
Gerry in his Canterbury outfit – again! He really likes red and black running gear :).
Me, getting into the frozen “whiteware”!
Adding water to the windscreen didn’t work – it just froze instantly!
Chilly out, but a lovely clear morning for a brisk run.
Almost got derailed there … a very tempting prospect shortly before 3kms.
Not quite the coffee stop, but very refreshing nonetheless :).
Running through the scenic Massey Campus.
Hee-ha! Not far now…
… just another short loop through the Science Park opposite Massey.
Shortly before 9km. If the fresh air doesn’t do it for you, the lovely scenery will.
The song by Bob Dylan, called “Orange Juice Blues”, was ringing in my ears this morning, and I figured it might just as well be my theme song :). The words stayed with me all day… “I had a hard time waking this morning. I got a lotta things on my mind. … I have a hard time waking most mornings. And it’s been that way for a month or more”…
When we woke up, the first thing Gerry did, was to check the Metservice website for a weather update: “-1.9 degrees celsius, feels like -3“, and suggesting however many layers of clothing to wear. I was really in a pickle, not having the foggiest idea (no pun intended) as to what to wear, and how many layers thereof (despite Metservices’ suggestions). You might need 4 layers when going out for a casual stroll in the park at zero degrees, but when running it gets a bit more complicated. Continue reading
Me, flying over Dublin Street Bridge!
Registration at the Union Boat Club.
A quick bum stretch, just incase :).
5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 – Go!
The field of 10km runners lining up.
urn around point for the 10km runners.
Gerry, nearing the end of the park. The guy in front was doing the 42km.
Gerry at the on-ramp of the Cobham Bridge.
Happy chappies at the finish! After a glass of rehydrate, courtesy of the organisers.
I don’t like the wind. In fact, I want to go so far as to say that I hate the wind. And hate is a very strong word … My granny always used to love the wind. Her theory was that it blows away all the bad stuff and you end up with good clean air. I beg to differ. We once stayed in a small town where the wind could blow an elephant off its feet. And each time after such a, what felt like a tornado, our yard would be littered with flyers, pamphlets, newspaper pages and even crisps and chocolate wrappers from around the neighbourhood (and the air wasn’t cleaner either, but that’s another story altogether). Maybe we just stayed in a collecting corner? Continue reading