I blame the Easter bunny, that malevolent six foot rabbit with a chocolate fetish, sort of Donnie Darko meets Willy Wonka. Or perhaps it’s all the plodded miles. Or the return of Dr Who. Oh, I don’t know, it’s all excuses for not having posted for a while.
Marathon training continues, not quite apace, but definitely at a pace, more tortoise less hare, more Eeyore less Tigger, more Long and Winding Road less Jet. The training group has dwindled as others have had their day on the finish line (Paris has gone, London is imminent) or the finish line is fast approaching (Mancunians are tapering). Meanwhile Edinburgh is still five weeks away. That’s 2, maybe 3, long runs away. About another 200 training miles to go, which coincidentally is the distance from here to there. So I could set off now. Maybe not.
It’s all gone to plan, which if my past marathon experience is anything to go by, means not a thing. My poorest training programme (longest run 17 miles, 6 weeks before the event) is my second best time. My best programme (over 600 injury free miles) is my personal worst. What will be, will be.
I hope to be better than tardy on the day, but at my age and with my reputation, I’ll settle for finishing.