Before Dad's party, Per (above) and I did a calming run along his favorite running route -- which leads out to some quiet country roads. His wife Patty had planned to do so, but a running injury sidelined her from the grand delight of running on that wet-cold (30 degree) Iowa, day. And I'll get a 'scutchin' (that's Iowan for a scolding or reprimand) for that statement from Anth, who says I don't give Iowa a fair shake in my descriptions of that state. At about 15 minutes we did a U-turn, and headed back to his truck.
"What do you think? How far?"
"About 3.1 miles," I answered. "That's about what I usually run in that time frame...a bit faster on a race, but..." (I had lung pain and had to take a couple short walk breaks).
"Hey, Per...do we have time? we could drive it and see..."
"I don't know...sometimes it's really disappointing..."
"And sometimes it's a pleasant surprise..."
So we retraced the run...Friday was pleasant surprise. 3.7 miles in 33 minutes! Patty, at home on the injury-protecting treadmill, did almost as well. Actually better if you add in the determination factor.
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