The Boston Synchronicity, Baby Turns Seven

I think I'm about 90% healed; still walking with a slight limp. After a couple extra days of healing time, I'll have an indoor trial around the track to see how much my foot can handle the rigours of a casual jog, and then amp it up to a harder run if it's tolerable; all within half an hour to start. The adage of "No pain, no gain!", doesn't apply for proper training in running. The adage of "Once there's pain, settle your ass down", does apply if one ever hopes to temper oneself enough to last through at least 10 kilometres: what I consider as the marginal point between the end of being a casual runner, and the beginning of being a long distance runner.

It's kind of strange to introduce the subject of long distance running in light of what happened yesterday at the Boston Marathon. Strange, in regards to the way in which the convergence of things happened that I was involved with yesterday, just before I found out what happened there. I had the day off, and given that I finally felt free of being under the influence of pain medication, I decided to at least catch up on my correspondence, as I relaxed to watch a movie for the afternoon. The movie I selected was The Hurt Locker, a movie about everything bomb related, from diffusion, to their degree of destruction, to the stress imposed on those dealing with them. At the same time, I was messing around online, dealing with changing some details with my registration at the Saskatchewan Marathon. Then, just as I was closing that matter up, I received the newsflash on the CBC app on my phone about the explosions at the Boston Marathon. This experience of noticing these three normally independent things in the news and media related to marathons and/or bombings, all at the same time, was just too much of an eerie coincidence for me to ignore. I'm not superstitious, nor do I believe in the supernatural, but that realization at that moment made my hair stand on end. I hope the event series of cause and effect of the result of extra policing and reprisals doesn't become too much more dramatic or tragic than that.


She finally found the first patch of grass large and dry enough
 to roll on today. The best way to start a new year of life.

It just dawned on me that my dog turns seven years old today. Time sure does fly. Given that I'm more mobile, we'll celebrate it with a trip to the dog park, finding new chew bone for her, a few head and belly rubs, and a couple beers for me, now that I don't have to worry about more goofy side effects. It will be at least a day of contentment, and being thankful and happy that we at least live in a place where people aren't so crazily driven with the intent to harm others with indiscriminant mass destruction.