Yeah, it’s my birthday. 36. I woke up at 2:30am in a fit of jetlag (from our too-recent big-week in Europe) and proceeded to tackle the enormous pile of work that awaits me for the month of June. Work, work, work until 5am, then I checked the weather and saw forecasted thunderstorms looming at 6am. Yeah, I could have gone to the gym, but it’s my birthday. I wanted to scamper quickly amid the trails… so I braved steady rain and headed up the 200+ foot hill to the local sanctuary, where I ran tiny . 75 mile-loops through a soaking rain, telling myself it was invigorating while fretting about chafing and the effect on my new trail trainers. Total wet run: 7.5 miles.
The day went downhill from there. I worked 8:15 am until 5:15pm, with my only break being when my boss kindly brought me a cupcake and chatted me up about liquor. I left work and took Little Boy to the library. Then, we ate chicken, green beans, an overly-ripe Camembert and chocolate cake. Then, I opened my present: an elaborate head-lamp system for my impending ultra night-runs. Then, we headed to the playground to enjoy the last balmy moments of spring before cruel humidity sets in.
I love my boys.
France and Ireland were excellent. I hope to post a comprehensive trip report after I get pictures from Mr. P, but by the time that happens, the memories of our trip may have faded ‘neath the press of work, training, and domesticity.
Walking in Brittany region of France
Walking in Glendalough, Ireland
