I got up Friday ready to do some damage to my To Do list and run after three days of resting my calf.  I was back in bed within the hour, as sick as I’ve been in years.  Migraine, vomiting…the works.  I huddled in bed until about 7pm, moaning and feeling sorry for myself.  And then I was fine.  I really wanted to go out for a run, but it seemed like a bad call after Eliot had been juggling the kids all day, while I demanded flat sodas.

Then we marched on Saturday.

Ruby lost solidarity steam early on.   She might have agreed with some of the snarky tweets I saw about “Who’s going to make the ham sandwiches if all the women are marching?”

I spent the rest of the weekend trying unsuccessfully to catch up with Friday’s missed hours.  I did get to run with my buddy Brian for a couple of hours, which was really great.  And the calf is just fine, but it seems like I’ll be tethered to the foam roller for the rest of  my life.

Here’s the link to the new Becoming Ultra podcast if you’re interested in following along this season.   Secret backstage information for you loyal readers: Ruby woke up from her nap and pooped in her pants right in the middle of this podcast.  “Scott and Ian, I’m going to have to step away for a moment.”

I was working on the logo for the camp last night and the logo competition, and I went down a rabbit hole with “band of brothers.” Before I knew it, I was googling St. Crispin Day medals.  I was a very big fan of Kenneth Branagh back in the day and his Henry V, so it’s pretty fun that this camp has a connection to my high school dreams.

And Mr. Branaugh’s version.

Running:

Saturday: 2 hours easy

Sunday: 12 miles easy

Monday: 80 minutes with 8 x 40 seconds and 1:20 recovery