Good 7-miler early this morning. It feels so… wrong to do less than last week, but that’s what the program says. Not too much to say about this run except that I think I’ve decided on my Soldier Field 10-Mile race day music strategy: first hour “warmup” with podcasts/spoken word whatever, and the rest upbeat music to keep me going. Today I listened to Phedippidations and a chapter of Thus Spoke Zarathustra for the first hour. I thought a little polarity would be good in the morning. (It was freezing too, by the way. Ha!) I think I might swap out Nietzsche for Jane Austen’s Emma next time (so my anger towards her distracts me from the horrible horrible pain spreading through my weak pathetic body).
On a less violently angry note, this long run was dedicated to my favorite NBA coach, Chuck Daly. Yes, he’s my favorite (even though I’m a Bulls fan) for he brought glory to the Eastern Conference and USA Basketball, wore sweet suits, and properly channeled the badness of Bill Laimbeer and his fearsome facemask! Rest in peace, Daddy Rich.
“I never understood how a great man, a nice guy coached the Bad Boys.”—Charles Barkley, not a Bad Boy but a boy who is bad