Booked myself in for a sports massage with (the lovely, but brutal) Christine at Achilles Hill. The word massage my conjure up perceptions of relaxation and pampering, but it reality it was torture. I don't know how anyone so small can cause so much pain. OK, I'm a bit of a kiff at the best of times, but when she found the knots in my calves I was biting down on the bed willing for the ordeal to end. Apparently my calves and quads were in a bit of state. It's been my right hamstring that's been playing up since Kilimanjaro, but that seemed OK. After half and hour, my face was slightly strained and my voice was a few decibels higher. It was all worth though. The lady's magic. My legs feel all light and fluffy.
Not for long though. Time to undo the fluffiness with a tempo run through Bearsden. A hilly little bugg*r up Drymen Road, over Stockiemuir into Milngavie. Down to Bearsden up the dreaded Boclair and down Rannoch. The tempo was split into three parts. The first was a mile was all up hill. Tried to cool it, as not to take too much out of my legs for Saturday. Ended up running with Ali Locke. She's about four minutes faster than me for a 10K, so probably not the best way to cool it on the hills.
6.14 miles in 53.16. Pace 8:42.
News from the camp: Route for Saturday's Jack Crawford 10K is a bog. Joy.