Good Friday – eventually. I rose from the dead at 6:30am (it’s OK, I’m a card-carrying atheist, I’m safe), not really in the mood to run 10 miles. I stood at the kitchen window, munching on dry toast and swilling severe, black coffee. A 10 mile race or a gardenful of torture? And how had I managed to put on 3 pounds yesterday?… READ MORE.... …