There was a movie called, My Left Foot, about a guy who had cerebral palsy and could move only his left foot and yet became a painter, poet, and author. I had a similar disability during today's run, but with my left hand. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't so similar. In fact, I could move everything except my left hand. The problem was that my left hand became so cold that I lost all feeling in it. This is not completely unusual for me on such a cold day, but today it was particularly bad. I think the problem was that my watch was on too tight. I'll have to "watch" this in the future.
Regardless of my hand's functionality, today's run was yet another lousy one; yet another failure to launch. I ran 12 miles in the time it should have taken to do 18. And I felt like I had done 28. This, and all the other recent poor running led to a decision: I had to let Coach Sven go. It was sad, but he was just not getting the job done. (The job, of course, has been to get me to become a good runner.)
I know. I liked him too. Sven and I go way back. I hope that we will remain good friends. At least as much as possible. It's tough when one of said friends happens to be invisible. And who knows? Maybe I will hire him back someday.
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