During my run on Thursday, I had a serious discussion with the troll. I laid it all out on the table. Long flights, bright sunshine, pancakes, Cheesecake Factory, friendly faces– none of these would be “his bag”. He sniveled a bit. I assured him he’d be much happier in the winter (ish- what IS going on with the weather?) climes of England. He could keep Crunchy husband company in his deep misery of missing me and have a jolly ol’ time. Plus, I mentioned the practicalities of the matter: he didn’t have his passport ready and it would take way too long to get one processed.
So far, it appears (knock on wood) he did not smuggle himself in my suitcase. I went for a beautiful run through sunny and warm Willow Glen this morning and didn’t feel any pain. I’m sitting here poking the injured area, and that doesn’t feel too hot, so I’ll stop. But, it’s looking good for next Sunday. Yippee!