I finally made it to fifty kilometres this morning in my month-long journey towards running one hundred kilometres to raise funds for Great Ormond Street Hospital in London.
I’m taking tomorrow off.
For the last several days various aches and pains have been surfacing - my body’s way of telling me “that’s enough”. This morning an inner thigh strain appeared. Yesterday my left achilles flared up again. The days prior were all about managing a head cold. There’s always something.
I’ve already worked it out - running 3km each morning through the rest of the month - minus the days we are travelling to go on holiday - I will still reach the target.
The good thing about it all? I’m probably fitter than I’ve been in years. I’m also losing weight surprisingly quickly. It’s a pretty soul-destroying way to lose weight though - running your entire body into the ground (quite literally).
I cooked dinner tonight. Spaghetti bolognese. My other half went to bed early and didn’t eat. I’m crossing my fingers that she hasn’t caught COVID. Our in-laws have caught it, and we went to a social gathering in the same town yesterday evening.
Fingers crossed. Just let us at least get through our holiday without catching anything.
Of course we never do anything the easy way - while we’re away on holiday, we’re trying to arrange somebody to come and decorate the living room. That will mean packing most of the contents of the room up while also packing our bags for holiday. Not the best idea ever.