01/11/2021 - The Complex - Complex Run Club take 2

AO: The Complex

When: 01/11/2021

PAX:

Number of Pax: 10

Pax Names: FakeID, Glenn, Mia Hamm, Sparky, Spork, Tang, Vegan, Webelos, Woodwind,

DR Names: na

Number of FNGS: 0

FNG Names: na

QIC: Poutine


Introduction

Nice crisp 23 degrees, minimal wind on arrival, once we confirmed that Curds was indeed a smartsack, we ran. There was no last minute HC from Ann Arbor. We were all sad.
Good chance some, hopefully not many of you will need to run off some steam tomorrow after today’s games. Please join me for a Monday morning ‘stroll’ and start your week right. We will stay on paths, but bring headlamps as there is still some ice around. Complex Run Club, take 2!
HCs please.

Warm-O-Rama

SSH

Slow down merkins

High Knees

Bonnie Blairs

The Thang

After some Woodwind site Q feedback, we looped around the ball park for a little extra mileage and ran towards Whelan Lake, expecting the path to be a little icy towards the lake. Mostly fine in the end, nice run, low temps, but wind was practically non-existent in the trees. 4 miles plus was achieved by some.

Circle of Trust

My M found this poem by Rudyard Kipling. Ive decided to memorize and repeat often to my kids (written for sons, but applies to all).

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

Naked Man Moleskin

I got nothing,

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