Sabres at mid-morning

Usual Saturday morning shenanigans, up and out in time to get back to start ferrying shortish people to learn how to defend themselves with a blunt sword, always assuming that the opponent is similarly armed and trained, and courteous enough to not throw said sword at your head, thereby distracting you long enough so that they can wrestle you to the ground and give you a Glasgow kiss.  Facetiousness aside, the discipline is wonderful and the joy it brings is inspiring.  Competition tomorrow.

I did a vanilla Paseo run but definitely no ice cream involved on a wet and blustery morning in Paradise.  High-five with only-just ex-president Santi (yesterday evening the new Jove junta was inaugurated) just past the Terramar was the highlight of a windy and soggy sojourn.

5km, 23:05.

38km remaining.

(Phaedrus (to be reanimated in every 80’s student’s favourite book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance) writes his fables; insane tyrant Caligula is having a laugh as Roman emperor; Claudius and Messalina marry)

 

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