Ahhh I have Daniel Bedingfield on a loop inside my head! The same three lines repeating every time I think of the 17 miles. Not sure which is worse, the lyrics or the vivid flashback to ankle pain and a concrete road stretching out as far as you can see. The biting wind made my hands swell like the Michelin man (remind me to google why?)… Oh wait l’m being a tad dramatic.
Although I think Dan would agree it was quite brutal. Personally I was very complacent, 15 miles was great, how bad could an extra 2 miles be? Well to start with, it was a Monday night, after hen do 2. In hindsight, we didn’t carb load and we didn’t hydrate (not enough to recover from a night of cocktails anyhow). The beginning was fun, ticking off the landmarks through the city following the river to Vauxhall, Wandsworth, Clapham and then suddenly it felt like we hit a desolate wasteland.
The scenery didn’t change for miles and the temperature dipped to sub zero. I’ve not felt ankle pain like it, and I could hear Dan’s knees creaking. We looked like a pair of frail elderly runners on the last couple of miles (Anyone read ‘the 100 year old man who climbed out the window and disappeared’? If not, do, it’s great!)
But I am reminded this week that this is all for a wonderful charity, St Joseph’s Hospice, and for dear friends and dear family that rely on the support of us all!