I leave with a strong "good luck" for runners and means those that are invading Verona, even for my little home. I do nothing tomorrow. I prefer to bring their father and Mateja around the city to watch the race, hoping that this early spring takes hard without being too hot for anyone to achieve its objectives.
Free field for the race to Claire, hoping for his half, but after the birth of the little one shooting wife was inevitably messy, so better to be a family-run 12/13 miles.
As for me, I long ago thought the same means pushing the stroller. But the thought is gone: if I start to have already Mateja do what I like, go bad - either now or never (if possible). And maybe to make them take a couple of hours cold: no! If there are a few kilometers can be a fun diversion from the daily walk, but no more than twenty. Regurgitation of awareness. Then I had always assumed a half-stroke at my best, but I did not find any motivation: the babysitting I did not even try, because he was certain that Clare was going at a run. Again, after a brief flashback, the asphalt is me, as they say, came to boredom. So I keep my irrelevant objectively but subjectively appreciable personal best of 1h42'03''scored 21.097 in the second of two that I engaged in during my career and I'm golden I'm going to hang out in the city, by rooting for friendly faces, known and unknown.
Long live the people of the marathon!
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