Right. Yesterday I went for a ride instead of a run because I was just too sore. Today it will be 35 degrees so I was out the door at seven am to reach the summit of Mount Ainslie. Leaving that early was a little difficult but I knew it would ne'er be otherwise. My alarm plays this harp sound and it may be a little too dulcet because it goes for many minutes before penetrating the vale of my head.
I listened to Beethoven's 9th Symphony and I was about half way through the choral movement at the end by the time I got to the top of the hill. I tried not to stop when on the up-track. Chanting 'life or death' in my head helped, but I was barely faster than the walkers to begin with and took pause three times.
Upon the apogee, inspiration struck and although it took me 15 minutes to get to the base of the hill I decided to try and get home in 8 minutes. Going down the hill was easy and very liberating for the hips. Then I took off to the side of the track, psyching myself up out loud, "Of course it's possible. Nothing is impossible." Veer left when a fellow runner appears out of nowhere to avoid frightening them anymore. Through back streets alternating betwixt a grimace and grin in spasming ecstasy. And and and ... it was surprisingly close.
The Australian War Memorial is at the base of Mount Ainslie. I have not actually been there since moving to Canberra so I had a quick look around. Something about the handsome gentleman below recalls the French. I'm thinking of La liberté guidant le peuple. I could have read the plaque but then I would just be an educated fool.
Next is Simpson and his burro. I learnt all about him in Primary School, I am sure most Australian children do. A very nice statue, the eyes are awesome.
Lake and world looking hazy from the bottom and the top.