No work today, not a good thing but at least I got myself out for good run. Temperatures are much better these days, around 5°C (40F?) and no more snow or ice on the ground. Yay for that! Wasn’t sure how far I could push myself but by the time I reached the halfway mark for 15k I was ready to turn around. No particular difficulties just didn’t feel inclined to do more. 1h31 total.
A couple days ago I did some hill sprint intervals! So much fun (alt fact)!!
It made for a strange looking graph and as it was around rush hour my little neighbourhood was a little more congested than I like. Not the best time to look like a foolish middle aged man running madly up and down a hill! 😆
So, my new favourite hot beverage!!
Hot chocolate with a heaping spoon of peanut butter!!! OMG so good! Why did it take me half a century to discover this!? I use almond milk as opposed to the moo juice and the pb I use doesn’t have added sugar (not trying to sound preachy) and the cocoa is organic so it all combines to a fabulous, delicious and healthy drink! Thanks to the hangry runner for sharing 💛.
I mean seriously folks, how cute is that!? So much love and purrs!!!!! 💛💛💛
In my continuing effort to share my love of poetry with you here is a wonderful piece by Yusef Komunyakaa.
When I was a boy, he says, the sky began burning,
& someone ran knocking on our door
one night. The house became birds
in the eaves too low for a boy’s ears.
I heard a girl talking, but they weren’t words.
I knew one good thing: a girl
was somewhere in our house,
speaking slow as a sailor’s parrot.
I glimpsed Alice in Wonderland.
Her voice smelled like an orange,
though I’d never peeled an orange.
I knocked on the walls, in a circle.
The voice was almost America.
My ears plucked a word out of the air.
She said, Friend. I eased open the door
hidden behind overcoats in a closet.
The young woman was smiling at me.
She was teaching herself a language
to take her far, far away,
& she taught me a word each day to keep secret.
But one night I woke to other voices in the house.
A commotion downstairs & a pleading.
There are promises made at night
that turn into stones at daybreak.
From my window, I saw the stars
burning in the river brighter than a big
celebration. I waited for her return,
with my hands over my mouth.
I can’t say her name, because it was
dangerous in our house so close to the water.
Was she a boy’s make-believe friend
or a beehive breathing inside the walls?
Years later my aunts said two German soldiers
shot the girl one night beside the Vistula.
This is how I learned your language.
It was long ago. It was springtime.
Enjoy and have a wonderful day!!