The Artful Dodger

Report:
Had a bad night sleeping last night. Daughter just about took a fist to the face for scaring the living shit out of me. I was in some sort of deep-coma-like meditation state or something where I think I'm awake enough to hear the thunderstorm all around my house but I can't hear my bedroom door open or my daughter walk in. Shortly after that, my son came in. He didn't risk a fist since he was loud enough to wake me up. Then I had to tell my daughter to turn her audio book down. Then my son came back in. Then my wife stole the covers. Then the storm got even louder. I finally woke up at 0530 when my wife banged the door coming out of the bathroom after her shower. I promptly grumbled, rolled over, and went the fuck back to sleep.

So anyway, I finally got things rolling and made it out the door. It wasn't a fun run but it was miles on the books.

The swamp that feeds the stream that's at the bottom of the hill.

Weather:
Temps were about 85F to 88F. Humidity was insanely high, maybe 70% or more. The sun was out and even though it was pretty cloudy, it seemed like I rarely saw any shade. There was a light breeze but it was barely enough to cool things off.

Fluids and Fuel:
Breakfast was oatmeal, a burrito, yogurt, and iced coffee. During the run I took a bottle of water and finished it. Recovery was a single scoop (half serving) of Hammer Recoverite mixed with water and chocolate ZICO. That was followed by meatloaf, broccoli, and potato wedges.

Aches and Pains:
None really to speak of but my stride and gait felt off. Not sure why, just felt funny.

Gear:
No special gear, just my phone.

Codename - The Artful Dodger
No, it isn't a reference to Master Bates. Although that does give me a good chuckle. It's a reference to my wife not running my half-naked ass over. You see, I was running a pretty normal route on a road near my house (it was my lunch hour after all). The road is pretty narrow but still wide enough for two cars to pass each other. Barely. On either side of the road is a ditch. That may be three feet deep in some place. Plus it's on a hill. With curves. Oh, and at the bottom of the hill where it crosses the stream, it's a one-lane bridge. Made of wood. So yes, I do indeed live in the sticks (I have three bridges like that within running distance of my house, the other two are on gravel roads). Well, sure enough, my wife comes barreling down the road right at me. She does a little bob and weave as I wave.

Splits:
Outbound - 21:08
Inbound - 21:22
Finish - 42:30