Not as hard as the watching of the Hannah Montana movie

That was about the hardest easy run I can remember doing. No clock, just a loop of the park with a stop at three miles for strides. Which, with a monster wind at my back, were by far the easiest part of the day. I'm hoping that it's fallout from my rainy gale session of Wednesday, but if tomorrow's long run feels the same I'll know that it's the creeping crash and I'll have to consider a day off at some point. A day off? Noooooooo!

Also taught a Body Pump (trade fucking mark) this morning, and am back to full weights after the funny sleepy army incident. This is something I should probably cut back on if I am realistically to hit the Holy 67 kilo Grail. Muscle weighs heavy and much as I like the aesthetics of my gay boy shoulders they're nothing but superfluous bulk on both bike climbs and road races.

But there was exciting news on this front, pump chumps, as post sweaty commute the electric scales spoke of 73.9. Get fucking in. It has been years. That's what I love about this comeback, every time I hit even the miniest of goals, it's for the first time in years.