All week long it’s been kick, kick, cook. One run and then a sit down to cook the shoe.
I’ve been heat molding the boots to conform to my abnormally flat feet. A quest to make them cozy and sure.
It’s been a long and painful four days but today I think I cracked it. They fit like fine calfskin gloves.
Stainless steel calfskin gloves.
Back on the track this morning. I’m doing short runs to get my ankles in shape.
On my first run the neighborhood grouchy dog runs at me and bites my left skate. This is the same dog that was partially instrumental in an endo event two and half years ago on my road bike.
Well, I was thinking about pouring some hot sauce on the skate or something but after several passes the dog never bothered me again.
I suppose clamping teeth on violently vibrating carbon fiber must not have been all that pleasant.
Not the city but the bird.
My front door street was neglected a long time ago. Countless years of four seasons magnified by solar radiation over six thousand feet above sea level have taken their toll. The road has eroded to a quarter mile of worst case scenario with a bit of sandy gravel to make things interesting. Ideal training ground.
After the prospect of radical downhill navigation with the order of a Gator Leash, I strapped on my carbon fiber/alunimum alloy wings to start getting back in shape.
Five cycles of descent and ascent, downhill was the worst. The road shock would turn my whole lower half to rubber. It did for the first two runs. My ankles started failing halfway through so I’d sit down and let my feet recover. Runs three and four were great, I started to run solid as the blood fed my feet and my ankles adjusted to the shock.
I saw this parallel definition on a road box when I did the Blast production at the Air Force Academy last week.
(click link for full definition)
pi-rate (py’-reht) (fr. Lat. pirata, fr. Greek Peirates, fr. Peiran to attempt – more at fear) – N.
Thanks Flying Moose of Nargothrond for something I’ve been trying to explain for years.
