Ran home from work today, and then added on what has become my go-to loop down Bushwick for a solid ten miles. Here is the route:
While I had to dodge tourists and that strange breed of middle-aged women who wear all-white with black underwear for most of Spring street, my run was uneventful, and my underwear well-behaved.
The change in gait as I start the long climb up the Williamsburg bridge motivated my underwear to starts its own climb up into my “hillbillies,” and embrace so tightly that it somewhat diminished my ability to enjoy the view from the bdrige.
I would invest in a pair of running shorts, but I have a policy of buying everything used, and my running shorts are safely locked away in a drawer somewhere at my folks house. There is no way I’m wearing a pair of running shorts that has been the bayou for someone else’s swamp thing.
By the time I set foot in Brooklyn, the underwear party was decidedly over. I decided to wait until a red light forced me to pause, and then quickly fix my wedgie, but each of these corners seemed to be populated by a small flock of children. While running from the cops would certainly give me motivation, I decided it would not be so good for my longterm training. Foiled by those innocent and meddling street children, I was compelled to run the rest of the way paying penance for all those times I peeked at a girl’s thong in high school.
Felt decent, though my knee is acting a fool. Taking tomorrow off, and then will settle into some six to eight mile runs before attempting fifteen or so this weekend.
Less than three weeks left, and today was the first day that I went “ooh, this might be difficult.”