I’ve no idea where I am with this running lark. I keep telling myself to get a grip, and I keep refusing to listen.
Yesterday I got up at 5:45 and walked/jogged about 3 miles. I could feel the calf but it wasn’t quite hurting. Today I overslept for the first time in months, then spent the day devouring crisps and the evening in the pub. But at least while I was there I read most of Runners World, so I forgive myself.
One positive step I made today was to create a spreadsheet of the days till the four races I’ve entered (Bristol Half, GNR, GSR and Dublin marathon), and set some weight targets. It made me feel motivated and renewed. Until I fancied another bag of crisps.
It will all work out right in the end, won’t it?
Won’t it…?
