Once, twice, three times a run

The snow pretty much forced it on me - at gun point (except there was no gun involved). I decided that I should rest the car in light of the snowy conditions and use my own two feet instead. The roads didn't actually look too bad. The gritters had obviously been out early - or late the night before - and done their job. It was a pretty relaxing run though - apart from the discomfort of my rucksack which, unlike my Mizuno one, wasn't designed for running.

I'd promised a run with Martin at lunch so run number two came at high noon. We even persuaded Clive T to come out to play. There was no up and over Dundry though. We stuck to a flatish route. It went well apart from some yobs who decided it was funny to throw snow balls at us. I caught a soft one on the back and another, thrown with more venom, to the side of the head. The little F#$&wits - lock 'em all up and through away the god-damn key.

Finally home-time and run number three - the voyage home. The pavement was still runnable and it was another pleasant run. Pleasant that is until more yobs, this time driving a car - a scary prospect because they clearly had the IQs of retarded, malformed baboons - swerved towards the side of the road, clearly on purpose, to flick up the slush at me. Now I didn't lower myself to their level or rise to the bait. I ignored them to lessen their enjoyment. I just kept running. Thicko's like that don't know any better - thick is, as thick does.

I was more than a little pissed off, soaked and it was freezing on me. Luckily I only had another few minutes left to run. Oh well, maybe, just maybe they'll try something like that again, lose it and total their cheap, all they can afford, old banger - damn, I've just lowered myself to their level - f#$& it.

Despite the bad, the good won out and it's been a solid days running.