Bridge Run on September 19th, so I have to drag myself out of bed and run three times a week.
I go okay.
Yesterday I managed a respectable 56 minutes for my 8.5 (ish) km run. I look (and feel) like Cliffy Young*, but the old legs get me there. My left knee is starting to remind me that I have a genetically inferior design (I have matching legs with my Dad who has had 2 knee replacements), but overall the training is going well and I hope to run the 9k in about an hour.
Yesterday I was reminded that spring is around the corner. It was a lovely warm morning; a blue sky with a touch of wind. The birds were chirping.
I am not a big fan of birds. They scare me. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the sound of their tweets and the colour of their plumage (and I don't mind eating a species or two, once cooked), but I can not stand the sound of their flapping wings.
I was hunted by a magpie when I was in my teens. Swooped. Pecked on the head. Hair removed for use in the nest I suspect the abhorrent bird was protecting. He drew blood and I found myself crawling across the ground, crying, trying to get away from his persistent swooping. Flap. Flap. Flap. Peck. Peck. The hunt went on for the duration of a large football field. It was really scary for me.
It did me in for life.
The magpies were out in force yesterday morning on my run. No swooping, but the sound of flapping overhead made me shudder. Spring is rapidly approaching and it is breeding season for the magpie.
I will have to map out my run carefully, avoiding magpie nests. It is a tough life for an Ornithophobic. Hey Dad!
* For those of you who are not from around here (or who entered the earth after 1983), Cliff Young was an Aussie farmer who won the Sydney to Melbourne ultra-marathon (875km) at the ripe old age of 61 years. Wearing gumboots. Without a wink of sleep. 7 days. He backed up the next year and came 7th. Needless to say, Cliffy invented 'the shuffle' that I am now perfecting!