London at Last
I ran another quick 10K on Friday morning and then had a long, leisurely - typically French - lunch with old friends in Montmartre in the shadow of Sacre Couer.
After packing my bag I made my way to the train station and was off. Paris was hot again and the train station was ful of people from all over Europe, apparently all of whom had forgotten to bathe that morning.
I thanked my blessings that I was able to sample the BO of at least a dozen diferent cultures, the train station redolent with the odours of Europe, Africa and the Middle East.
The Medoc Marathon is but a week hence and after one of two more ten Ks, I am going to cut back on my running a little. Not a huge taper, but a little one...
I received notice in my e-mail on Friday that they were beginning to register people for Boston on Setember 6th.
So I think I am going to forgo a fast fall marathon - well, at least an attempt at one! - in favour of falling back on my Boston qualifying time that I got in Boston this spring.
In a way the effort I put in seems somewhat prescient, as I had no idea at the time what the summer and my doctors had in store for me. Like the Boy Scouts, marathoners can never be too prepared!
After living like an artiste in a peniche mored along the bank of the Seine in Paris, I have gone to feeling like anaristcrat in London; ensconsed in a stunningly beautiful and stately home on the edge of Regent Park.
You can never have too many friends.
After a mere week, I find myself missing my running buddies back in Vancouver and my dawgs...
After packing my bag I made my way to the train station and was off. Paris was hot again and the train station was ful of people from all over Europe, apparently all of whom had forgotten to bathe that morning.
I thanked my blessings that I was able to sample the BO of at least a dozen diferent cultures, the train station redolent with the odours of Europe, Africa and the Middle East.
The Medoc Marathon is but a week hence and after one of two more ten Ks, I am going to cut back on my running a little. Not a huge taper, but a little one...
I received notice in my e-mail on Friday that they were beginning to register people for Boston on Setember 6th.
So I think I am going to forgo a fast fall marathon - well, at least an attempt at one! - in favour of falling back on my Boston qualifying time that I got in Boston this spring.
In a way the effort I put in seems somewhat prescient, as I had no idea at the time what the summer and my doctors had in store for me. Like the Boy Scouts, marathoners can never be too prepared!
After living like an artiste in a peniche mored along the bank of the Seine in Paris, I have gone to feeling like anaristcrat in London; ensconsed in a stunningly beautiful and stately home on the edge of Regent Park.
You can never have too many friends.
After a mere week, I find myself missing my running buddies back in Vancouver and my dawgs...
posted by Vince Hemingson at 2:03 AM
3 Comments:
vince! remember the dragonladies from amsterdam?
we met in toronto in 2004...we liked the kilt...so if you are in france (thomas told me) and you make it up to holland, we'll help you with your workout schedule, and i'm sure we can arrange a place for you to bed down for the night!
other than that i will be in vancouver in november, hope we can maybe catch up then.
good luck with your training. keep on truckin!
xxx mara & co
First, I'd have to agree, the young lady from your last (reading glasses) post was wise indeed.
Meantime, I had to spend a bit of time parsing this sentence:
"After living like an artiste in a peniche mored along the bank of the Seine in Paris, I have gone to feeling like anaristcrat in London; ensconsed in a stunningly beautiful and stately home on the edge of Regent Park."
I eventually decided that it was: "After living like an artiste in a peniche moored along the bank of the Seine in Paris, I have gone to feeling like anaristcrat in London; ensconsed in a stunningly beautiful and stately home on the edge of Regent Park."
"artiste" was no problem..."peniche" still has me stumped, though I've pretty well decided it's either the French word for a type of small, long bread shaped like the equipment in our trousers or a boat of larger size, but similar shape or perhaps a slang term for pension (I think there's an accent in there)..."mored" was chalked up as a simple typo..."anaristcrat" had me thinking about the elite version of anarchist, an anarchistocrat, then settled on the much more mundane "an aristocrat". Finally, I got to "ensconsed", which I decided was probably another case of you Canucks talking funny, having used the Britished version of our "ensconced".
This is what happens when you post on the road, perpetually in a hurry, in a poorly lit cafe, usually hung over or under-caffeinated, and with no recourse to spell-check...
Of course I had NO idea I was under such close scrutiny!!!
But yes - Mais, oui - a peniche is a boat "moored" on the bank of the Seine, and I did feel as if I had started living like "an aristocrat" next to Regent Park.
"Ensconced" Well, let's face it. I just fucked that one up!
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