Navigational
For this week's long run, 26k, I decided the best option was to run straight out Parramatta Road until I reached a reasonable cut-off to the Olympic Park. Easy to navigate, I thought, and a bit of a change. It would mean crossing some traffic intersection choke-points, but that oughtn't to delay me more than a couple of minutes here and there. However - and there had to be a however, didn't there? - I missed my turn. Suddenly, I was right behind the park, just the same (o.k., not suddenly; by this point it had taken damn near forever), so I swung in and started looking for the interior loop I'd plotted. Never did find it. Nevertheless, on the theory that I should do one anyway, I ended up following a longer loop than expected. By the time I got back on track - and stopping to examine a wall map helped me reorient myself - I was nearly done in. When I got home and replotted the route according to the path actually travelled, I'd done nearly 32k. What's killing me is, despite walking a lot of the path home, I did the course in two-and-a-half hours, i.e., 148 minutes, which works out to something like four-and-a-half minutes per k. I gotta be doing the math wrong, because I was very deliberate in keeping a "reasonable" pace, and probably walked most of the extra 7k. Even better, somewhere along the way, my ankle wallet unzipped, and my house key fell out. I had to spend 30 minutes waiting on a locksmith, while the salt of my perspiration dried in snail trails along my arms. I'm well sore, too. What a day. Swimming tomorrow will be just the ticket to loosen up, but I've also got to do the shopping, and bring my bike in for repairs.

Meanwhile, tonight's the Rabbitohs, so I'll spend some time out in the wind-chill just to top things off. The way I feel, they'd better bloody win, or I might not make it through the 80 minutes.