On the Road Again

I screwed up again.  I was so intent on finally timing my distance -- the 1.3 with Banks (I took another slow car trip last night and settled on a new Banks route, a perfect rectangle with a circle within it, which we do twice), and the 3.7 Stacy Park hill route for me alone.  And with my infallible sense of direction, I missed a turn, had to backtrack, Banks pooped, and I had to give up on an accurate time for the 1.3.  But I took him home, and DID pay attention on the 3.7, and this time it was a couple of minutes SHORT of an hour, rather than one minute over. I've set a new goal for myself:  near the end of the year, I want to be able to cut down to an hour out there, not an hour and a half, which is going to mean doing some running.

Another road trip tomorrow, this one down south to Port Lavaca and Victoria.  I stopped at the library and picked up a couple of books on tape.  When I first started doing that, I would feel terribly pleased with myself as I chose classics like Dickens, or something that would "teach me something." The only thing I learned was that a monotonous stretch of highway and an outdated English novel had roughly the same effect as a couple of Ambien. Who was I kidding?  Today I picked up a book by Meredith Baxter. Can't wait to hear the inside scoop on the "Family Ties" cast, not to mention what made her decide she was a lesbian. That should keep me awake.