I'm not doing the High Heel-a-thon today, after all. I woke up with a stomach thing yesterday and skipped my run, so I don't feel like I can skip or truncate my run today. Plus, the likelihood of me twisting my ankle is just way, way, way too high. My physiatrist called me "much improved" at my appointment on Monday. I'd hate to let her down with a new injury. I still love the idea of a gimmick race, but not with a marathon looming!
Yesterday I wrote about some of the annoying things I'd seen at the 18m tune-up. In the comments and on twitter, I got some other responses. Some commonalities emerge... Here are a few of the twitter responses I got:
I said it in the comments yesterday, and I'll say it again here: if you're going to be that pedestrian crossing the path of a race, first of all, don't do it.
Barring that, here's a sure-fire method: cross at an angle in the direction the race is moving. It's much easier to weave in and out of people when you're moving in their direction (and it's much easier for runners to avoid you when you're moving the same direction they are) than it is to abruptly cross directly perpendicular to them.
Also? This totally arrived in the mail yesterday (and yes, I'm old):
LAST THING: It's my friend Kate's 30th birthday today. Happy day!
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"