Oh, the pain

Set my alarm for 6.30 this morning. Dragged my sorry body out of bed about then, ate some breakfast and then drove down to work. Started running at 7.30 am.

Felt awful from the start - joints were sore, wasn't getting decent strides in, felt no strength anywhere. The first half of the run (up from Newingreen to Hawkinge) was interminable - lots more very dull flat bits that I don't remember ever running the other way, and the whole thing a collosal grind. Only good bit was a detour in Saltwood from the bridleway, where I found the fabled Devils' Nips, and also a nice little tabletop that somebody's built, hidden in all sides in a little valley beside the main path.

Second half felt better - by then the sun was out, and the second half is always better because you're on the way back. However, took 2 and a half hours to do 14 miles - well outside of pace, which isn't at all good. Plus, the particular shorts I wore had chafed things quite badly. Well, one thing in particular, but seeing as it doesn't get much use at the moment, perhaps little cause for complaint. But you don't want to see that oozing blood when you are getting out of your clothes and into the shower, do you?

Anyway, got back to the folks' about 11.30, had a spot of food with them and then went up town to see Rachel. Spent an eternity getting served in a restaurant, didn't climb at Westway because Rachel failed the registration (something to do with belaying and caribiniers yada yada yada) so then off to the Notting Hill Coronet to watch Maria Full Of Grace - very fun - and now I'm back at the parents and ready to go to bed, because in addition to running 22 miles in the last 39 hours, I've only had 7 hours sleep, and I'd like a bit more, please, before I go to Wales.