I felt absolutely rotten when I awoke this morning, I’m not sure if it was the effects of yesterday catching up with me, or if I am coming down with something, I really hope it isn’t the latter.
I struggled through Manchester to get my coach and thanks to poor bus times and people arguing with the bus driver over not accepting £20 notes I made it to my coach with barely a minute to spare, in fact I took my seat and the driver was starting up the engine.
As the coach was barrelling down the M6 I started to think back to yesterday’s race. Sure there were a lot of people, but I am so glad that I did it, I might not do it again, but what an experience. The other runners encouraged each other, the crowds were brilliant, I even tolerated the guy who completed the race banging a drum with light up drumsticks that you could barely see as it was broad daylight.
My legs also feel surprisingly fresh, maybe they are finally starting to relent and accept I’m a runner now.