I did that 20 mile run last weekend. That was quite good. In the teeth of the gales that were battering us I went out and tried to run 20 miles at a good pace. I wanted 7.30, but the wind was atrocious, so I settled for keeping it under 8 m/m.
So that was a good effort. Then nothing. Work are still battering me with hours, then Luke, Wendy’s son, had a really evil bug, he was bored with being ill on his own so came around and gave it to me and Wendy. Super. Wendy’s been off work, rough as a rat’s arse, since Tuesday, I’ve just been feeling week and horrible. I had a patch, lay in bed last night, where I thought that I was actually OK, and could probably manage a run. I got up this morning grotty again. I’m missing valuable training and I’ve got the Manc marathon in a fortnight. I don’t have the time to be ill.
However, I thought I’d make the most of my down time by finally selling my kit. I put it off, not because I want to keep the kit, but because of all the hassle trying to sell stuff.
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