And then the knee goes

It’s the first day that feels as if summer is in the air. My mood is lifted and I feel great. It’s going to be a good summer and a good season of running. I can feel it in my bones!

The day gets away from me, as usual, and I miss hill training with the group this evening. To make up for it, I dash up a few sets of stairs on the dog walk. The Kid is not impressed, and opts for waiting at the botton of each set, staring at the walls, trying to make out pictures in their holes, dirty marks and flaky paint.

Running up stairs with two excited dogs is quite good. If you’re lazy you can let them pull you. Going down … different story. Life threatening, to say the least.

Nothing like a good set of steps to wake up the legs.

Nothing like a good set of steps to wake up the legs.

Steps - The Kid decides they're not so much fun

Steps – The Kid decides they’re not so much fun

But the light and the views and the sunset … Ah! A life is good moment.

When the Cape shows off, she shows off.

When the Cape shows off, she shows off.

Later on I head out for a run without The Kid and without the dogs. The Promenade is peaceful. By seven o’clock most of the strollers and runners had gone home and I could take in the light and the air, and get into my stride withouth having to dodge kids and dogs and sweet couples in their autumn years.

An it-will-be-summer-soon sunset on the Promenade

An it-will-be-summer-soon sunset on the Promenade

It was a good run. The iPod is making a difference, I find. I’m focusing more on the music and less on how far and how fast and how sore. I’m starting to sing while I run. This is not a good thing for passersby. But it’s kind of like what I look like while running: I can’t see myself. And I can’t hear myself sing. I know both are terrible. But c’est la vie! Whatever gets you across the finish line, right?!

The Promenade sunset was just amazing. Full of promise of fitness and health, long, warm days on the beach, shady hikes up mountain paths, yellow cling peaches, bunches of fat, juicy grapes, sweet, pink watermelon and sparkling glasses of ice cold wine.

There’s just a little matter of a marathon to get through.

And then, at 11,5 km, my right knee gave in. So now what? Wait and see. Rest today. Run tomorrow. Oh, ho-hum, Running, you mean, mean, fickle bitch!

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