Upstairs / Downstairs

So almost exactly a year ago I was pottering around with my foot in crutches, cursing my failed attempt at running the Bath Half due to a broken metatarsal, with very little thought about entering another race. Since then, I've run a marathon, survived 6 months of trim trail, trekked through snow fall in the Brecon Beacons, slept in a village hall, rolled a tractor tyre around a field and lost a fight with a hay bale.

And I've run the bath half. Slowly. But without stopping. I am unbeatable. And fuelled entirely by lucozade.

So Bath, man it was hot, someone turned up the sun. You can tell because I've a light dusting of freckles. and the delicate scent of perspiration emanating from my kit bag. But I feel okay whilst I'm on the flat, although there are a couple of gentle reminders when I try to descend stairs.

But I can't complain, I didn't do it in pads, and full respect to the hard core that did. It was a tough day for wearing extra kit, and I owe thanks to the now beardless Iain who picked me up around mile 12 and kept me going. About 400 metres later I picked up the A Fud and insisted she come with us, although in her heat haze she didn't realise the beardless Iain was my brother and thought I was weirdly over friendly with the crowd when I told him we'd meet him in the pub later!

But it was a good race, and actually given I had to run walk much of Berlin, that is probably the longest period of time I've run without stopping ever.

There is a weird process when you do these races. At mile 2 I was knackered, by 3 I had a stitch. Between 5 and 10 I was kind of having fun, at 11 miles I was pretty clear in my mind that I was not going to be doing any serious races any time soon, at 12 I was doubting I would finish this one, and on the finish line I was on top form. Right now I'm thinking I wonder if 2.18 would translate into a 4.30 marathon time. Sick. sick. ...

And now... I've got some training for a party... Woo hoo!