|
So Long ... And Thanks For All The Fish
I do love Douglas Adams. His sense of the absurd lurking in the shadows of everyday life is a joy. He'd have appreciated the agonies and ironies of my week, for certain.
As I umm'd and aahh'd over my forthcoming race this Sunday, weighing a ridiculous work/ life schedule against reasonable fitness and a desire to finish in style, fate leant a decisive hand. Pulling pallets around the halls of Ocean Business I've torn something in my right calf. It's not going to heal quickly, it's constant and it's painful. Game over, man. I hate to finish with a whimper but a deal's a deal. My marathon days are done. Three London's, Paris, Brighton, the muddy madness of Steyning, the unbearable heat of Cape Town, the magical vistas of Connemara.
More running adventures await, not least the Seaford Half in June and the devilish Point To Pinnacle in November. There will be a fair bit less of me in these parts in the weeks ahead. The stage is set for others to regale us with their Tales Rude and Glorious. I can hardly wait.
What a long, strange trip it's been.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
|
So Long ... And Thanks For All The Fish
