The weathermen say a big storm is coming. Weather.com agrees, although I don't need a fucking meteorologist to tell me with 70 degrees in late December and a 30 mile-an-hour wind and a sky churned black and gray that there might be a storm on the way. I walked the Maple Street Loop through light, horizontal rain and leaves and Christmas remnants blowing across the streets in 27:33.
This encouraged me. Hours after the storm left wet roads and an enduring, high wind, as I jogged down the 35th Street hill toward my house tonight, I figured I was about to finish the Gimblett Loop, with 60 seconds hard/easy through the third and fourth miles, in about 48 minutes. I felt light and strong; was barely breathing. I "wouldn't have blowed out a match," as a trainer at Oaklawn Park once said to me about his colt after a workout. I got it in 45:36, with splits of 9:47, 10:02, 8:36, 8:36, and 8:35.
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