I was meant to be out of the door and running by 7:30 but when the alarm went off at 7am it was swiftly turned off and I was back under the covers – it was cold out there! And I was tired. Really tired.
I finally got out at 11am. I had been up for several hours mind you, just the first opportunity to run with the littlest one having a sleep and the other one watching CBeebies on the tablet whilst mum worked – I pointed out to her how implausible this would have been when I was a child, but it didn’t appear to register.
The run was a perfunctory affair – at least the skies were blue even if the cold stiff wind battered me at times to the point of literally being blown off course. It felt like I was eight minute miling for the eight or so mile I ran, it was pleasing therefore to see I was actually knocking out low seven minute miles.
Apart from the legs feeling a little lifeless and suggesting they needed a day’s rest (planned now for Monday) there was little sinister save for the right groin nagging away again. This seems to come and go as it pleases – hard to determine exactly where the issue is. All the while it doesn’t actually slow me I won’t fuss too much over it, but I know these things can change quickly.