There was a young lady who swallowed a fly…

…or more precisely, two flies. I don’t know why she swallowed two flies, perhaps it’s because once was not enough and the coughing fit induced by the first one was so much fun that she ran for the next 8 miles with her jaw hanging open just hoping for another throat buzz.

Yeuch. In addition to ingesting winged beasts, I have been running twice since returning from Paris: a gentle 5 miler on Friday afternoon and a stiff 10 yesterday morning.

I think a few days off running was a good thing, though I did walk down every Rue in Paris so they weren’t really rest days. I didn’t miss it at all, it was hot and there weren’t many runners on the streets. It seems that Parisiennes get their exercise by smoking and walking their tiny dogs, with an occasional trip on a scooter.

I’m not sure where I would have gone to run – there was a man in the Luxembourg gardens who looked like he was on lap 3 of 45. Give me Regent’s Park any day. Everything’s bigger there: the dogs, the trees, the love handles. There isn’t an actual palace though, I’ll give you that Paris.