Coldest day of the year by some distance, and a rest day – but it seemed a shame to stay clear away from it. I had to go and have a taste of the pain. Only 3½ miles, and slow, but strangely important. If I’m to do better than I have in my previous marathons, I need to work harder than I did in preparing for them. Part of me finds that sentiment nauseatingly goody-goody. But squinting at it in another way, it seems to show not starey-eyed, clean-shaven, Hitler Youth tendencies, but a nod towards the more palatable ascetic Buddhist perspective. The one that says that you achieve equilibrium only through suffering.
Sigh. I must still be an old hippy.
Went into a butcher’s shop today and said “Bet you £50 that you can’t reach the meat on the top shelf”. The butcher said: “No, the steaks are too high.”
