A short and sweet two mile jog tonight. Oddly enough, my knee hurt less after the run than it did before it. After being berated for heading out on a sixteen mile run with a litre of water and no suger/carbs/anything, I bravely consumed a whole Mars Bar before running tonight; it didn't appear to make my leg hurt less, nor did I feel much bouncier than before.
So far, attempts to keep a small chainmail coif on my head whilst running have failed; it persists in either flopping down over my eyes, or falling backwards to start strangling me. Borrowing a helmet or armouring cap from some friends may be the only way to have a medieval hat. Without it, if Monday is a sunny day then suncream-soaked sweat will be streaming into my eyes, and I'll run into a lamppost.
The Belfast Marathon site now has the results pages up, and there's really not many runners coming in after six hours. Many of them were over 60. I'm trying not to consider the possibility of coming last.
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