From M&M down to Whiting, up Tbar to the Chairlift for 10x Climb overs, then a new trip down Tote road to the Quarry road and back around Whiting. Came back up to M&M the same way. The other route is too overgrown.
Had an idea to go back up to the Chairlift from the Reservoir after Tote road. This was just enough. Legs were tired of climbing at the end. Last weekend sucked, knees and hips sore etc. No issues today. Spent all week doing a lot of loaded reverse lunges, regular stepups and split squats at work, and back on the balance board occasionally. Before this run, I did enough ankle P&R work to get the tissues a little burn. Left knee feels a little enflamed and swelly. I'll repeat patellar massage and balance board tonight.
End of run thoughts... for some reason related to Philthatremains and immortality...
I'm at an age where I recognize that the values I embody every day are most important. I exist through them. They do not belong to me, they are available to everybody. We make our opportunities to express them and as these expressions are visible we are seen as their agents. As we make opportunites we sacrifice others and must choose which to serve. These are the gods of old seen motivating men and warring within men's hearts for expression. These are the tales that survive, how these driving forces confront one another within the human spirit. I knew this when I was younger but only in an intellectual or imaginative sense. I can now look back on my life and see how I've experienced it. My experience informs my choices as I read my own story, my history. Telling the tale of history becomes imporant to myself and these tales may possibly have value for others. Telling the tales is in itself a particular expression of a particular divinity. From a particular perspective, the tale telling replaces all of that actual experience. That perspective is a delusion particular to that divinity. The economy of tales shared and informing different human expressions is the true meta-landscape that determines value. Anyway, all of this took shape in my mind on the stretch old road past the old stone gates of Whiting reservoir. By the time I turned off the old road up the trail to the parking area, I was committed to the particular way my foot placement expressed a certain discipline. I reviewed this concept once or twice to be sure I'd remember. I forgot until now, probably 6 hours later, remembering while scrubbing a difficult pan clean.