No whammys! No whammys!
I’m crossing my fingers. Knocking on wood. Winking at God.
Week 13 out of 18, and damned if I don’t feel good.
Saturday night I ran 21 miles and ... my legs still move onward and upward at my command. Knees don’t ache. Right illobitial band doesn’t twinge. Calves aren’t cramping. Proper hydration and sugar-consumption rate seems to have been discovered. Asics still springy. Mental game of singing one hymn on repeat for 3 hours adequately passes time.
All of which rocks.
And all of which means I better shut up the bragging before any (inevitable) curses (as have so often in the past) hereto befall.
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