Novembre

Allora ecco qui il mese di novembre....una volta uno dei cani sciolti disse: "l'autunno serve ad allenarsi per l'inverno..."...beh, io odio l'autunno, speriamo almeno sia stato utile per l'allenamento, in attesa della neve!

• Corsa: 13 tot 115 km;
• Mtb: 5 tot 120 circa....molto circa;
• Bici da corsa: 1...cosa???? :-0 che schifo...
• Nuoto: 1...cosa???? :-0 che schifo...
• Trave: 6, ok...
• Arrampicata: 2, ok...

Allora come varietà ci potrebbe stare, mettendo insieme anche il fatto che c'è stata la vela mi pare anche...e il fatto che ad inizio novembre si era fuori porta....sta di fatto che la media è meno di un allenamento al giorno e perciò non ci siamo...
Per quanto riguarda questa settimana il riposo procede....mangiare-dormire-corricchiare....devo dire una cosa: ammiro senza riserve coloro i quali riescono a correre la mattina presto! Magari di inverno, magari soli...
Questo passaggio è dedicato a tutti quelli che si allenano nella solitudine:

"...as I was fishing from the bank of the river near the Nine-Acre-Corner bridge, standing on the quaking grass and willow roots, where the muskrats lurk, I heard a singular rattling sound, somewhat like that of the

sticks which boys play with their fingers, when, looking up, I observed a very slight and graceful hawk, like a nighthawk, alternately soaring like a ripple and tumbling a rod or two over and over, showing the under side of its wings, which gleamed like a satin ribbon in the sun, or like the pearly inside of a shell. This sight reminded me of falconry and what nobleness and poetry are associated with that sport. The Merlin it seemed to me it might be called: but I care not for its name. It was the most ethereal flight I had ever witnessed. It did not simply flutter like a butterfly, nor soar like the larger hawks, but it sported with proud reliance in the fields of air; mounting again and again with its strange chuckle, it repeated its free and beautiful fall, turning over and over like a kite, and then recovering from its lofty tumbling, as if it had never set its foot on terra firma. It

appeared to have no companion in the universe -- sporting there alone -- and to need none but the morning and the ether with which it played. It was not lonely, but made all the earth lonely beneath it. Where was the parent which hatched it, its kindred, and its father in the heavens? The tenant of the air, it seemed related

to the earth but by an egg hatched some time in the crevice of a crag; -- or was its native nest made in the angle of a cloud, woven of the rainbow's trimmings and the sunset sky, and lined with some soft midsummer haze caught up from earth? Its eyry now some cliffy cloud." D.T.

Il pezzo che mi piace di più recita "It was not lonely, but made all the earth lonely beneath it"...
Come dire: "non era solo, ma rendeva sola la terra al di sotto di lui" ...
Buon allenamento a tutti i solitari....
JMB ReRe