I ran the slowest of the slow this morning. 60 minutes of jogging. My wife mentioned that she saw me out running and noted that I didn't look very much like the runner she met on the February day 29 years ago. What she meant was that my style of running pretty much stunk out the joint. I agreed with her and mentioned that along with my age related slowdown I had added in my self imposed how slow could I run style.
I admit that I would happy running 3 miles of faster stuff rather than 6 miles of slow-slow but I am worried that I would simply bust my calf again.
The path of the world class master runner is lonely and slow.
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