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D –

9 June 2011
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This morning’s effort – 5 miles to the Hill of the Muswell – was not my best work.

It was underwhelming. I did not reach my true potential.  I let myself down.  Tenacity was not demonstrated. Mental toughness was absent. A hint of laziness might even be said to have been detected.

If you had passed me on any of the uphill stretches after the first 1.5 miles, you may be forgiven for imagining that I was out for a walk, rather than a run. ‘Who goes for a walk at 6.30am, without a dog?’, you might have wondered. 

The best part of the run was the part after I stopped my watch at the end. And no, that is not the best part of every run. It is a good part, yes, but if the run is anything short of horrific, it’s never the best.

Bad days happen. Legs unaccountably turn to  jelly overnight. Muscles buckle. Brains turn to mush.

Coffee. That’s what I need.

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