Making a list

In no particular order, here's how I know that this was a fantastic Christmas...

1. I spent the morning on the webcam with my wonderful family, spread liberally across four Canadian provinces, all of whom looked healthy, well, and downright festive.

2. I got some great books from the fat, ruddy-nosed, present-giving gnome. My presents to me. Deanna also bought me some books I can't wait to devour, and will set about doing so over the remaining sixteen days of this vacation.

3. In keeping with tradition, I ate enough for a Korean family of four.

4. I slept the early part of the afternoon away. And not one of those "close your eyes for a few minutes while slouching on the couch" naps. A real nap - an "in bed, clothes off, curtains drawn, telephone unplugged" nap.

5. We watched a few episodes of The West Wing, the apogee of small-screen evolution, one of only two series (Six Feet Under) I would even consider watching again in their entirety. Which I've done, working now on my third time with those zany senior staffers.

6. I received some very nice holiday wishes from friends near and far.

7. I went for a run. Outside. Wearing shorts. On the 25th of December. 

8. My amazing wife made me laugh, many times.

Going dark

Bourne-style.
That is, if Bourne spent less time running through dangerous places and doing other cool spy stuff, and more time changing the template on his blog from the white background to the black one.

Training Break #9

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can.

- R.W. Emerson

Training Break #8

For me it's more intriguing, it's more interesting, because I'm climbing the mountain for what it is rather than just trying to get to the top.

- Ed Viesturs, when asked by Stephen Colbert why he prefers to summit Everest without the use of bottled oxygen.

Dust on the rust on the lead in my legs

Borneo was all we had hoped for and more. Deanna and I will be posting our chronicles at OOFALWO over the next few weeks, so that's the place to read of our [mis]adventures. As for running, well, let's just say that I was in an extended period of active recovery. That sounds much better than admitting that I was in holiday mode, when bad spy fiction and naps on the beach took precedence over logging some miles. The Warrior Board for June shows 99.10 minutes on three runs, and a whole pile of untimed walking - on mountain trails, in Malaysian national parks, around (and around, and around) tiny idyllic islands, and through pleasant cities.

The Incheon Bridge marathon we had hoped to do in September as a tune-up for the 100km run in October has been postponed, to the same day we will be doing the 100km run. So that's out, but I will try to find an alternative in late August or early September. The ultra is now fourteen and a half weeks away, which hopefully is enough time for my legs and me to get back on amicable terms. 

Borneo

May ended like it started, with me resting and nursing sore parts, but did include three runs for 966.15 and 600 minutes of walking. I'll need to get my hip sorted out quickly, as the marathon in September and then the YeongDong 100km Ultra on October 10th loom large.

According to the latest edition of the British Journal of Medicine, the best remedy for a dodgy hip is to begin an immediate eight week summer vacation, with the first three weeks spent beach-laying, tandoori-eating, giant turtle-watching, and hanging out with the likes of this Iban headhunter in the wild climes of Sarawak. I'll work today, since I'm already in the building, but then this sounds like the kind of medical advice I can get behind, starting 474 minutes from now.

The Hip

Had I taken closer heed of this sign posted on the Yangjaecheon running path, perhaps I would not be taking the weekend off with an inflamed sciatic nerve in my right hip [diagnosed from the comfort of my own couch with assistance from the good Dr. Wikipedia].

But speaking of real doctors, a deeply reverent doff o' the hat to Monica [Prairie Chapter] on demolishing her Royal College exams and officially becoming the Sea Bass Running Club's in-house anaesthesiologist.