AM - 13.1 miles up to work. Met Fritz on my way up at SHP and we ran 5+ miles together before he turned off to the gym and I headed up the hill. PM - 7.3 miles home. I love when its warm out, but the west slabs of Mt Olympus are snow-covered. It has to be one of the most stunning "urban" views in the world. Since everyone ordered OAR (the book, not the band) yesterday, I figured I should post Chapter 17: Breaking Down to further fuel the fire. This chapter is always worth a read, even out of context of the rest of the book... the whole thing is quotable... Cassidy sought no euphoric interludes. They came, when they did, quite naturally and he was content to enjoy them privately. He ran not for crypto-religious reasons, but to win races, to cover ground fast. Not only to be better than his fellows, but better than himself. To be faster by a tenth of a second, by an inch, by two feet or two yards than he had been the week or year before. He sought to conquer the physical limitations placed upon him by a three-dimensional world (and if Time is the fourth dimension, that too was his province). If he could conquer the weakness, the cowardice in himself, he would not worry about the rest;it would come. Training was a rite of purification; from it came speed, strength. Racing was a rite of death; from it came knowledge. Such rites demand, if they are to be meaningful at all, a certain amount of time spent precisely on the Red Line, where you can lean over the manicured putting green at the edge of the precipice and see exactly nothing.
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