Well if John Lennon was allowed his famous ‘lost weekend’, why can’t I have my own, humbler version?
All those great things that have happened between last October and today, and all those people I’ve got to know, and all that physiology stuff, and that spirit of tabula rasa… all seem suddenly remote and irrelevant and semi-forgotten.
Monday I biked, Tuesday I ran, then nothing. It will be 4 days of nothing before Sunday’s race. Worse than 4 days of nothing. A frenzy of fatty food, wine, and no active preparation for Sunday; just the nursing of these red and black and sore and swollen toes. Can I get right for the half marathon in Fleet?
I’m too far down this aching road to fail now.
Roll on Sunday…
