Photo by Gary.
Left to right: Old watch. New watch.
Couple weeks back I was running home from dropping my car off at the garage in what I like to call a "destination run," previously blogged about here.
Well, it was pre-sunrise and still dark. As a car approached I got as close to the edge of the road as possible without getting onto the shoulder. Then I suddenly went down hard and fast as though somebody had lassoed my feet.
Turns out a woody roadside plant has extended a 1" branch just onto the edge of the macadam. It was low enough that the mowers wouldn't get it. But my left toe sure did.
I leaped up as quickly as I could so as not to freak out the car that by now was going by, like "I'm OK!"
Turns out I was OK but my trusty Timex Ironman, my gold standard of running watches, got cracked across its face in the fall. I purchased a new one, but of course the latest Ironman model was now slightly different. Thankfully the buttons seem largely the same so hopefully no huge learning curve to overcome.
Rest in peace, old Ironman, you served me well.
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