In general I go through life on an even keel, but nowadays my thoughts about the London Marathon swing from hopes of an unrealistically fast time (usually when I’m in bed) to thoughts that I’ll be lucky to do it in under 4:30 (usually a quarter of the way through a run).
Am I alone in this or just part of a sad minority, which wouldn’t be quite so bad?
Making an effort to be objective – albeit boring – I’ve had another reasonably good week. My long run was 15 1/2 miles in 2:30, which seems to indicate that my time on 23 April will be a source of neither pride nor shame, but perhaps relief. However, there are still nine weeks of training to go, and hope springs eternal.
No time to run last week: all day opening my Valentine’s cards. The postman’s put his back out again this year.
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