I had one of those runs that could you put you off for life. My legs were stiff - blaming squats in the gym on Friday - and I generally felt pretty rubbish. I was just putting in the 16-miles for the sake of doing a long run. I suppose I was training my body to run when I just didn't have it it me. So all's not lost.
I started on my usual 16-miler over the Balloch Horseshoe. I messed up my Garmin at mile five and didn't realise until a couple of miles up the road. It's amazing how gadgets have the ability to de-motivate you. After I discovered my mistake with the overall time and pacing, I couldn't help but think what's the point. In hindsight it was quite nice to run without a time-to-beat in mind.
It was pretty windy from there on in. I can't remember a time when I did that route and it wasn't windy.
I stopped to take a picture of my favourite sign, which is posted to a tree outside a family-run farm. Not only does it mark the end of the hills, but it always make me smile. I can't believe I'm carrying a camera on my runs now. I'm blaming you JK ;-)
I'll spare you my moans, but I was pretty miserable for the rest of the course. And when the cold sleet started, I couldn't wait for it to be over. When I finally made it home I was soaking wet, my skin was bright red and my lips were blue. My hair was a mass of knots, which took a half a bottle of conditioner to untangle.
When Marco made it home, I was strangely comforted by the state he was in. I just presumed it was me that had a terrible time. When he opened the door he collapsed face down, foaming about never racing and then doing a long run again. As the loving and devoted wife that I am, I took some photos and a video and then shouted out him to get his mucky gear off the carpet. Hey if I was that mean, I'd post the evidence ;-)