Both yesterday and the day before I was out trying to outpace walking speed.

Two nights in a row! Awe yeah boy-ee (or lay-dee, depending on gender). Friday night I was out with Rach (the better half) straight after work, which was an accomplishment in itself, because I really only wanted to eat food and drink pop. Obviously, I did do that after the run.

But last night I was playing cardio catch up. While I was on the couch in the morning Rach went to town, then hiked back, which is about 2 hours of walking with a good 500 feet upness from the end. At least. The cat even got its miles in, first running up about two thirds of our 60 odd steps, she then fought a series of skirmishes against the oppressive forces of thin air. The cat's still standing so it was a draw at the very least.

With such vigorous examples around me, I stepped up my game. Bigger strides, more pace, longer running bits, shorter walking bits. In all honesty, I think I went to far, ran before I could walk, or something. The last stretch I knew I started too quickly on and hurling felt like a distinct possibility. When I got home Rach said I looked purple, like I was going to die, in fact. Looking in the mirror I couldn't see it myself, perhaps I'd lost the colour in my vision. Also, I couldn't talk for ages without coughing, which seems to be very funny from the outside.

I kind of glad it's raining tonight.