For this morning’s run, I once again concentrated on my breathing. That went pretty well; I was surprised that I could avoid the ragged panting that correlated with upper-chest breathing through most of the run (though toward the end I was alternating deep- and shallow-breathing). At the same time, it was one of the slower runs I’ve made since our holiday. Still all to the good; I’m not racing against Mo Farah, I’m running faster than the desk potato I was growing into about eight years ago. And I’m beating that stout, lethargic blancmange handily.
Coffee and fruit, clean up, Morning Prayer, and right now I’m expecting to hold public office hours in town, although the Michaelmas Fair (extending from the Market Square right down to the intersection with Drayton Road, Spring Road, and Marcham Road — at one mile, it’s reputedly the longest street fair in Europe.
Communion at the Bridge House care home in the afternoon.