I sat reading in the tea-house for the duration of only one cup of quadspresso yesterday morning, before climbing about the magic carpet for a run. I was due to attend a quiet ceremony to inter the ashes of John Brooks and was expecting my eldest brother to collect me.
I continued the 7mph tempo theme of the last two weeks, this time counting down twelve five-minute segments… which strangely varied in perceptual length from ten minutes to only a few seconds depending on how deeply engrossed I was thinking about something else at the time!
I was about fifteen minutes from the end when there was a knock on the window and I turned my head to see my brother running on the spot outside, bobbing up and down neatly in time with me.
He graciously allowed me to continue and stood chatting while I finished the balance of my seven miles and allotted one hour. I probably wasn’t the best conversational partner though since I was dripping with sweat and was more than a little breathy!
We continued chatting while I tried to cool down outside, but to little avail… in fact, even after showering and changing I still felt like I had just climbed off the machine. Thank goodness for the aircon in his car!