30 km

It's two days after the 118th running of Around the Bay in Hamilton and my sympathy pains are in full swing. My thighs and back ache when I think of IronMan, IronGirl, The Maltese Falcon and others setting off for their almost annual 30 km trek.

After a more civilized, 8:30 AM, start time, mother and I discovered a new-to-us restaurant on Locke St. Earth to Table tis it's name and if you ever happen to be in the neighbourhood, there are two fine antique stores close by, I highly recommend it.

We then joined Mdm. Givenchy in the stands at Copps Coliseum. Our timing was about spot on and within 10 minutes or so the first person crossed the finish line. How anyone runs that far at all amazes me but to do it in less than an hour and forty-five minutes is krazy!

Completely understandable are the raised eyebrows I get when I tell people about my new beekeeping venture. Short of mutiny in the colony and Queen Mary's drones learning how to unzip my protective hood I don't see this hobby rendering my legs unusable for days afterwards or leaving me in need of a wheelchair.

That is correct, I counted no less than 6 people cross the line, grab a railing for support and have to get wheeled out of the path of others. Out of 8000+ runners, I guess those aren't bad odds but how anyone finds that gratifying I will never know. But I shan't judge.

In the mornings and evenings, IronMan now hobbles up and down the stairs, apparently descending is worse, and at work, the Maltese Falcon complains each time she returns from the bathroom about how arduous it is to lift her derrière off the seat.

I joke that I would only run that far if something were chasing me or if Hendricks martinis awaited my arrival. Les-b-honest though and say 3 hours is a respectable time. Short of a zombie, I think just about anything else chasing me could catch-up without much effort.

And if not, apparently such exertions would render me meals on wheels. I'll stick to the bees.