Oh dear. I’ve not been too well recently. At least I think I haven’t. I’ve been exhausted. Too exhausted to do a long run yesterday (though I did force myself out for a brief loosener in the early evening). This is two consecutive weekends without a longie. Oh God, my universe is imploding, and everything I ever held dear has vanished in the blink of an eye. All my dreams are dust. Every yearning, reaching……
Aw shaddup. It’s true, my plans have taken an unexpected kick in the goolies recently, but I’m a calm fellow, and I’ll not be deflected or disheartened. Depression demands too much energy, so I’m taking the lazy option, and sticking to happiness. Yes, Copenhagen is just six weeks away now, and my plans are in crisis. Ha ha! Fortunately I love nothing more than a decent crisis. Crises are the grains of salt that add so much flavour to the, erm, frites of my life. (Yeah OK, don’t give me a hard time on that one. It happens to us all occasionally.)
Anyway, bugger it, I’m off to Denmark whatever happens. I’m running the marathon in six weeks, so let’s get back to business.
