March 2017

[Sweder]

Twittens in a monsoon; well, half of them, anyway. The sun peeped out as we flogged our tired limbs up and down the narrow cobbled streets, finally stepping out from behind the scurrying cloud to beam triumphantly as we staggered into Ground Coffee.

We met Mary Lou at the foot of Station Street. She looked energised, wired, even, just back from Blackcap in a do-or-die attempt to fire her Moyleman corpuscles. 'I had to shout into the wind to help fight my way up' she grinned, endorphins almost visible under her shining skin. This running malarky is weird, isn't it?

A fine Moyleman quartet this morning. Tom Roper, fresh from his Brighton Half triumph, photographer extraordinaire James McCauley, Duncan and me, piano-wire hamstrings humming like wet live rails as we forced warm blood through battered legs after yesterday's exertions.