Notes
Flying fuck. Somebody please just shoot me. That may be the slowest and most miserable run I can remember since the one where I had the shits and a groin injury and got stuck in a thunderstorm.
Was trying for 20, but this heat and humidity (even before daylight, ffs) reduced me to a crawl by 13, and then it was a phantasm of bad form, staring at the Garmin and saying FUCK! and mentally cursing all the chatty bitches walking five across with their endless water bottles.
Ran into Margie at Deep Wells and she looked fresh as a daisy running the hills in this weather AT 72YEARS OLD. Good grief.