The concept of more is intriguing.
I’d opt for “less” of Jordan (the over-inflated darling of the tabloid press). Get more sense out of the average elbow, I’ll say.
But I’m aware that many would oppose my view. Much as I’d like more time to dick about in the garden and the garage and around the house and on the motorbike, as many would find these activities wrong and prefer to idolise a pumped-up plastic celebrity from the comfort of their living room. (Incidentally, I’ve no idea why I picked on Jordan. First notion that popped into my head, I’m afraid. It could easily have been prawn cocktail crisps. Or Pol Pot. Or Jack Kerouac. I don’t even know much about her. But what I know isn’t very favourable. I’ll continue).
This morning while pondering running routes I decided to link a couple of less favourable routes to make my 6 miler. In my head they weren’t too unpleasant. All have been done many times. The hilly bits even form a more attractive proposition than WaterWorks hill when I want a hill repeat but don’t fancy enforced 12 minute mile pace. I was quite looking forward to the outing. The result shows how warped my imagination has become when considering alternatives.
So not the flattest 6 miler around, then. And to be honest, around 2.5 miles when I was 41 seconds behind target pace of 8 minute miles, I wondered what I’d got myself into. But I didn’t want to turn back (looking at the profile if I had, would you?!), so plodded on. And up, of course.
The garage which has been occupying me for the past few weeks promises 8% more light inside the house when the windows I’m making are fitted. In a dark, 18th century bakery, this will hopefully prove significant.
For Janathon i’m atempting to run 17% more miles than last year. At the moment I’m right on target. I hadn’t intended running 17% more hills. That might come by mistake. Unless I decide on easier, flatter options. We’ll see.
If only I could encourage some plastic surgeons to consider 17% less the world might be a more balanced place.