I was convinced I was flying, I felt great (that SAD light is the knees of the bee indeed) and then looking at my little techy chum on returning home, I find that I was ‘flying’ at 12 mins per mile. Still, it is good for 48 hours post marathon, nothing hurt, and I didn’t feel remotely tired.
My, that makes it sound like I am doing it properly doesn’t it? Well. 2.7 something first thing, for which I am heaping plaudits upon myself. It was a touch Victorian underworld, a bit of fog, a bit of dark, and lots of scruffy urchins all over the place.