Best 35 Inch Tires

best 35 inch tires
  • Cause to feel in need of rest or sleep; weary
  • Lose interest in; become bored with
  • (tire) lose interest or become bored with something or somebody; "I'm so tired of your mother and her complaints about my food"
  • (tire) exhaust or get tired through overuse or great strain or stress; "We wore ourselves out on this hike"
  • Become in need of rest or sleep; grow weary
  • (tire) hoop that covers a wheel; "automobile tires are usually made of rubber and filled with compressed air"
  • A unit of linear measure equal to one twelfth of a foot (2.54 cm)
  • A very small amount or distance
  • a unit of length equal to one twelfth of a foot
  • edge: advance slowly, as if by inches; "He edged towards the car"
  • column inch: a unit of measurement for advertising space
  • A unit used to express other quantities, in particular
  • thirty-five: being five more than thirty
  • 35 (thirty-five) is the natural number following 34 and preceding 36.
  • Year 35 (XXXV) was a common year starting on Saturday (link will display the full calendar) of the Julian calendar.

It's done
It's done
Memories: a blur. The clear blue dawn. Runners boarding the Tube at every stop. Dozens of baggage lorries, outstanding organisation. Watching the women's start. The quiet before the race, hundreds of clothes being shed on the start line. Pissing, pissing everywhere. A strange personal calm and lack of fear. Having no idea what to expect. The off! Spotting the family standing on the Landie at the start. The constant bleeping of timing mats. The bunch stopping in the first mile. High-fiving kids along the way. Setting off a little too quick. Keeping the nine minute mile pace group in sight, for a while. Passing Bertie who's running 35 marathons in 22 days. The boos as the blue and red starts meet. Why do we have to go around the roundabout and they don't? Trying to keep to my carbo-gel plan. Stopping for a pee. And again. And then wanting to pee desperately through stomach cramps but nothing coming out, time after time. Kodo-esque drummers under the A102. Greenwich, spotting Mat (thanks for all your help my friend!), running past the Cutty Sark, on through Deptford. Pubs with music. People, people everywhere - not an inch of the race was without support. Oranges from spectators. Feeling strong. This is the day. Nine miles, Surrey Quays, a wall of sound. Shirts proclaiming "running for Mum": that's what chokes the throat. Onto the Rotherhithe Peninsula. Run once in training, so dull, knew I wouldn't be back until today and now it's packed. Canary Wharf so near and yet ten miles ahead. The drizzle begins. And then rain, torrential rain, it's like swimming and it's great, raw, refreshing. Still strong. Jamaica Road behind a mankini. The crowds are still out despite the downpour. Twelve miles, turn right, Tower Bridge. Is this real? It's a climb but I'm running with a big smile, this isthe London Marathon. Turn right, heading towards Docklands, half way, two hours. That's good, but it's starting to hurt. And it's meant to hurt. Keep going. It's a mental game. What does that mean? Along The Highway. A handful of elite runners pass in the opposite direction. Good, I'm not too slow. Trying to take water at every stop but struggling to get it down. Stomach is sore. Stop to try and pee again: nothing (and nor would there be until late that evening). Keep going. Crisis supporters' point ahead at Westferry, that's the next target. Into Docklands. The smell of barbecue turns the stomach. Past the Crisis zone, keep focused, can't stop, hardly spotted them, was the family there? I didn't see them. Phew, it's starting to get sore. Wish I hadn't lost that last month of training. Seventeen miles. Okay, I'll walk after the next water stop to get as much down as I can. Where is it, they're meant to be every mile but only where there's a long stretch of road. Hell, there isn't one. But keep going. Mile eighteen, finally, water, get it down, start off again. Come on. Look, Canary Wharf is so near. Tired legs. Through the office buildings, very crowded but oddly quiet, scan the faces for anyone I know but nothing. It's hard looking at both sides whilst running. Actually it's hard running. I've never run this far before and I'm still going, that's good. Past Billingsgate Market, a row of toilets, the cramp is making me want to do some business but once again nothing happening. Queuing doesn't help my mile pace which is dropping below ten minutes. Finally back in the right direction, towards the city. Is this a housing estate? Sunshine. Past the Limehouse Link and onto The Highway in the reverse direction. Still some runners coming through eight miles behind me. A stilt walker followed by the clean-up team. The crowds are noisier now but I'm walking, running, walking a little, running. My name's called out several times in a row as I'm walking along. Pip! I pass her my belt with a snarl, sorry Pip, that was a bad moment. Onwards, churning onwards. So many people call my name. "Cris!"; "Crisis, oh, er, Joel", yes, the charity name on the vest is a lot bigger than mine. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes. Dropping to eleven minute miles Twenty two miles, onto Upper Thames Street, nearly home. Crowds line the canyon of office blocks. "Come on Joel, start running. Nearly there mate". Motivating and well intentioned but I'm tempted to tell them to "Feck off and die, I don't see you running a marathon". Tired now. Head down. Pushing through; painful; walk, run, walk, run. Into the tunnel. Only runners now, silence. Disheartening to be walking by the side as a sea of jogging backs, head down, flows past. Must keep going. Onto the Embankment. Really near now. Hard. Keep going, come on. You'll do this in under four and a half hours. You've got time. Keep moving. Wince. Move. Under Blackfriars Bridge. A hill! I didn't expect this but drift up. Raining hard again. Push, push, towards Embankment Station. Spot M, M, M and M on the far side. At least I'm running. I hope they didn't s
Zeddam #3 - Cornflower
Zeddam #3 - Cornflower
(best viewed in Large) 19 june, 2010 Centaurea cyanus (Cornflower, Bachelor's button, Bluebottle, Boutonniere flower, Hurtsickle, Cyani flower) is a small annual flowering plant in the family Asteraceae, native to Europe. "Cornflower" is also erroneously used for chicory, and more correctly for a few other Centaurea species; to distinguish C. cyanus from these it is sometimes called Common Cornflower. It may also be referred to as basketflower, though the term properly refers to the Plectocephalus group of Centaurea, which is probably a distinct genus. It is an annual plant growing to 16-35 inches tall, with grey-green branched stems. The leaves are lanceolate, 1-4 cm long. The flowers are most commonly an intense blue colour, produced in flowerheads (capitula) 1.5-3 cm diameter, with a ring of a few large, spreading ray florets surrounding a central cluster of disc florets. The blue pigment is protocyanin, which in roses is red. In the past it often grew as a weed in crop fields, hence its name (fields growing grains such as wheat, barley, rye, or oats were formerly known as "corn fields" in England). It is now endangered in its native habitat by agricultural intensification, particularly over-use of herbicides, destroying its habitat; in the United Kingdom it has declined from 264 sites to just 3 sites in the last 50 years. In reaction to this, the conservation charity Plantlife named it as one of 101 species it would actively work to bring 'Back from the Brink'. It is also, however, through introduction as an ornamental plant in gardens and a seed contaminant in crop seeds, now naturalised in many other parts of the world, including North America and parts of Australia. In folklore, cornflowers were worn by young men in love; if the flower faded too quickly, it was taken as a sign that the man's love was not returned. In herbalism, a decoction of cornflower is effective in treating conjunctivitis, and as a wash for tired eyes. The blue cornflower has been the national flower of Estonia since 1968 and symbolizes daily bread to Estonians. It is also the symbol of the Estonian political party, People's Union, the Finnish political party, National Coalition Party, and the Swedish political party, Liberal People's Party, and has since the dawn of the 20th century been a symbol for social liberalism there. It is the official flower of the Swedish province of Ostergotland. The blue cornflower is also one of the national flowers of Germany. This is partly due to the story that when Queen Louise of Prussia was fleeing Berlin and pursued by Napoleon's forces, she hid her children in a field of cornflowers and kept them quiet by weaving wreaths for them from the flowers. The flower thus became identified with Prussia, not least because it was the same color as the Prussian military uniform. After the unification of Germany in 1875, it went on to became a symbol of the country as a whole. For this reason, in Austria the blue cornflower is a political symbol for pan-German and rightist ideas. Members of the Freedom Party wore it at the opening of the Austrian parliament in 2005. It was also the favourite flower of Louise's son Kaiser Wilhelm I. Because of its ties to royalty, authors such as Theodor Fontane have used it symbolically, often sarcastically, to comment on the social and political climate of the time. The cornflower is also often seen as an inspiration for the German Romantic symbol of the Blue Flower. In France it is the symbol of the 11th November 1918 armistice and, as such, a common symbol for veterans (especially the now defunct poilus of World War I), similar to the poppies worn in the United Kingdom and in Canada. The cornflower is also the symbol for motor neurone disease and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. It was the favorite flower of John F. Kennedy and was worn by his son, John F. Kennedy, Jr. at his wedding in tribute to his father. Cornflowers were also used in the funeral wreath made for Pharaoh Tutankhamun. (Wikipedia)

best 35 inch tires
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