~6.1 mi @ ~11.6 min/mi

"I'm a suboptimal pacer!" says K-Rex, though she actually uses a different s-word than "suboptimal". Our first mile is under 11 min/mi pace, too fast to sustain, as we ramble in the sultry-warm Good Friday darkness. One of us forgot his headlamp, but we're fine trotting together between the puddles of glow below each streetlight. A walker near Haycock admires our blinky-blue arm-and-belt LED gear. Tysons-Pimmit Park paths offer a new, suspicious-looking dirt cut-through that we abstain from trying in the gloom. We talk, smile, breathe.

For the second weigh-in in a row, Evil Scale in the locker room shows sub-11 stone, less than 70 kg. Dehydration? Or the start of a trend, perhaps thanks to not-eating except between noon and 8pm for the past week? Hmmmmm ...

(trackfile) - ^z - 2018-04-21