One yippy dog

Date	Place	Duration (min)	Time
6 Sep	Moscow, Sukharevskaya	82	08:50

     I ran in search of a newspaper today.  Beverly Hills Diner near Turgenovskiya, none; Sholkoladniskya near Kitai-Gorod, none; B. Hills Diner on Tverskaya, none. 

Finally, I arrive to the restaurant near Mayakovskaya where expats congregate and found Friday’s edition. Hallelujah!.

Date	Place	Duration (min)	One lap	12 flights	pullups	dips	Time
8 Sep	Moscow, Sukharevskaya	32	52.45	46.34	4 sets of 11	11	08:14

     This morning was a fabulous time.  I simply ran around the little park near my apartment.  I ran a couple laps, then did a set of pull-ups.  Two more laps and another set.  One more lap and the sprint.  I knew when I started that it was going to be good.  I was flying:  on my toes from the start, arms pumping, legs churning, the air screaming past my ear drums.  There were only a couple people to dodge, and one tiny yippy dog.

     When I tell this story, the audience usually gets the idea that I am moving quite fast.  Sure, I feel like I’m going fast, but…  as I told Inna last night, I’m not actually fast.  Whenever I race against someone, they always smoke me as I plod along like a crippled tortoise.  When I’m by myself, though, I have a chance at winning.  Last week, I achieved sub-55 second lap—the goal I had set for myself on the first day in Moscow.  Today, I broke that record by more than 2 seconds!!!  That’s right, two seconds!  You might not think that’s much, but in actual fact, 2 seconds is an eternity when you are running near the top of your game. 

     The main thing that excites me about this result is that my body is performing excellently.  Legs, no pain. Knees, solid.  Ankles, peachy.  Once again, I am back to full-speed.  Ooo-Rah!