I had to spend a night in Cincinnati because of missed connections. This meant that I missed my morning run with Dave and Amy, but we met up at Brueggers later. Debbie gave Amy the quilt, and we expressed our simpathy for Puf who had been put to sleep. As a result, I had to do my long run Sunday, thinking of Limerick Pork. Read on:
Until I went to Ireland, I wasn't aware that there is an actual city called Limerick. I still had to chuckle a bit when I saw "Limerick Pork" on a dinner menu. I figured they meant that the recipe came from there or that's the way they prepare it there, or something. Even so, I still somehow pictured a pork chop spouting a dirty little five-line poem.
So during this morning's long run, I came up with this thought about Limerick Pork:
There once was a piglet in Limerick
Who thought: to escape would be mighty slick
He tried to run away
But the farmer held him at bay
And that's him on the dinner table; so much for that swine trick
orn: Besides thinking about Limerick Pork, I somehow ran 20 miles in decent fashion. I managed to generally get faster as I went on, with the last few being fastest of all. The only disappointment was not quite getting down to sub-7 minute pace for those last couple - it was more like 7:15 or so. Maybe next time.
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