Tuesday night: a quick 2.5 miles, to check that everything was still working after Sunday’s exertions. It felt like I was flying round, but as is almost always the case, the stopwatch told a different tale – only 5 seconds per mile faster than Sunday night, when I ran five times as far.

Wednesday night: intended 7.5 miles but stopped at 5. I’d over-indulged at an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet at lunchtime (I always take these things literally) and my insides were still awash with protein and fat by the evening. Good job the restaurant didn’t serve alcohol, or things would have been worse. The run was fairly plodding, but I’m glad I at least got a few miles on the board. Afterwards, I was still sustained by curry power, so my recovery meal consisted of a cup of tea and a biscuit.

Thursday morning: out just before 5.30 am for a run/ride/run to work (1.75+4 ish). The first leg was OK, if a little panicked – I made the train with about 2 minutes to spare. But the second leg was pretty unpleasant. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the facts that:

1. It was only 10 hours since I’d done 5 miles.
2. I hadn’t eaten for 18 hours.

Great work. The run was little more than a stumbling jog, the worst I can remember. That bowl of muesli at my desk never tasted so good.

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