I won’t repeat my now-constant observation that i’d rather not have run this morning — but I was surprised, on my run, by my ability to sustain what felt like an ambitious steady pace. That pace was especially striking since I was slightly short of breath, which I attribute to pollen. In any case, when I got home, I found that I had run in a time faster than all but three, I think, of the runs I’ve timed (and those three were from the bad competitive days in the spring). My rolling average ticked significantly downward (but I’m sure it will tick back up tomorrow).
Yesterday afternoon I had trouble focusing on the writing that I desperately need to finish, but when the evening came Margaret and I enjoyed the concluding two episodes of The Count of Monte Cristo. I’d hav e liked an ending that hewed closer to the novel’s, but I thought it was, on the whole, a satisfactory adaptation. Sam Claflin did a believable job as Dantès, and he communicated convincingly the toxins poisoning his soul via his bleak vengeance.
Run, coffee and easy peelers for breakfast, cleaned up, Morning Prayer at church, public office hours at R&R, and home again now to extrude more word count for my overdue essay.