Or “What a time for my Garmin to throw a fit”. Or “Will it ever be warm enough for short sleeves again?”
Nothing, nothing, nothing and then three titles come along all at once.
If anyone else in the universe had the pleasure of listening to the superb Southend-On-Sea based pirate radio station “Premier 88.6” back in the early 2000’s, they might well have heard the best dance music ever relayed onto the airwaves. Tony Roberts was the man who coined the phrase I’ve chosen for the title and fitting it was, too.
Tonight, Matthew, I ran 5 miles. Down to the motorway roundabout from work, along the trail at the side of the motorway and under the road to a truck stop for a bit of Tubbson2wheels £10 note waving fun before heading back up the hills to the car for a sweat-fuelled drive home.
Only the Garmin decided to not get a signal. Then when it did, it recorded the first half mile as 0.2. At 16 min/mile pace. And when I reset it (on the run, admittedly) it recorded my donwhill pace as 8.35/mile.
Hopefully the middle bit was accurate enough (the loop out and back to the well known and many times measured 2 mile turnaround point), or I might not have done 5 miles at all. The best bit of the outing was my strength on the uphills. They’re steep. And I felt great up them. Almost great enough to desire short sleeves for a minute. But not quite – once back on the ridge of hill that runs along towards site, the breeze had my sleeves rolled back down before the next uphill made me warm enough to be happy.
Did I say happy? What I meant to say was less morose than usual, these days.
Roll on the day I sit in a chairlift and enjoy watching the cows below.