I find myself in Sussex, for probably the last run of 2001. It’s another bad experience. My diet in the last 2 days has been dreadful. Left alone in the house for a day or two, I slip into naughty schoolboy mode, hoovering up crisps and chocolate and polishing off a bottle and a half of wine on Friday evening. Yesterday I went to the match and feasted on a hot dog and later on, celebratory fish and chips.… READ MORE.... …
Tag: pessimistic
Only a week into my programme, and already I find myself in a trough. After last week’s fate-tempting sense of triumph, it was perhaps inevitable that on Sunday’s long run I’d get the chest pains again; that on Monday I’d unexpectedly go down with crisps-and-chocolate-fever, and that just a mile into this morning’s run, I’d suddenly get a sharp stab of pain in my left calf, and have to limp back home.… READ MORE.... …