I think it must be my age but temperature to me is a combination of Fahrenheit and Celsius. I know, for example, that below 2 degrees C is cold and above 70 degrees F is mild, 80 degrees F is warm and below zero degrees C is very cold, everything in between is a mystery.
The kitchen thermometer told me it was 13.3 degrees C outside and as I drank my customary glass of pre run water I pondered what that temperature meant. It may as well have read "average" or " ok" for all the meaning I was taking from 13.3 degrees.
Monday was an abject failure. After only a kilometre I pulled up limping, shin pains that didn't feel normal. I walked home dejected and hid in non running life for a day or two. I decided last night that I would go with how I felt in the morning, no planning, no expectations, just as it comes.
As it came was that at 5:50am I awoke naturally feeling pretty good and decided I'd go for that run. It was a good call as I ended up running 29 mins and 14 secs which tells me I've not lost anything from the additional rest days. Week 8 is finally done, thank goodness for that.
The songs were an eclectic mix as per usual this morning and the one that stands out in my mind is Lou Reed's "A walk on the wild side" because all the coloured girls ran right up behind me to sing boop, be doop, be doop, be doop, ee doop doop...