I did an hour on the stationary bike yesterday morning, and then walked an extra two miles in the evening. Catherine brought new episodes of Alias-- and while I find the whole thing preposterous and the show never appealed to me when it was airing--I find running on the treadmill a breeze while I'm watching it. I sailed through 5 miles this morning and everytime I mentally checked in on my posture I was doin' fine. My hip, with the exception of stretching that hamstring twice today, feels pretty good. I hope to get in 6 on Saturday. Catherine's come back to my side of the trail. Yay. I've only got 2 more choir practices before the Christmas perfomance. I love to sing, and they let me sing, they don't even complain very much about my singing. But I promsie you I am the loudest, worst singer, in the whole group (of about 100). Isn't it sad? Because we all know the WORST singer, is also the LOUDEST. It's the one singer that makes it so you can't hear anyone else singing. So there I stand on that back row with a supremely voiced soprano-- her angelic throaty aria carrying the heavy melody into the heavens-- while I stand at her side screetching out a descant -- and smiling like a cheshire cat. | 