What a difference a day makes…

Well… I’ve done, I’ve now run two marathons and by heck they were different beasts and different affairs.

I’ll pop fingers to iPad soon and give you a full account of Edinburgh but in the meantime please be assured that it was brought to you in association with tartan rock tape, paracetamol and copious amounts of swearing! It was hot, hot, hot today and that made it hard, hard, hard, whilst I would never take a marathon for granted, post-London I had this strange idea that they weren’t as hard as all that and boy, did that come and bite me firmly on the arse! 

In fact my arse seems to be the root of all evil at present, or to be precise my left arse cheek appears to be the root of all evil at the moment and the reason why my darling husband was applying copious amounts of tartan rock tape to my arse at some unknown godly hour this morning!


That rock tape definitely held things together and apart from some minor wobbles at mile 16 when my leg most definitely wasn’t happy it did its job and got me round. Next week I get to ring the physio and go see her for a proper assessment, as I was too scared to do so earlier in case she told me I needed to stop running for a few weeks! Any prayers you can offer to the god of running injuries would be really good or else I’ll be sporting a tartan arse at any event I do in the near future!!!

To cut a long, drawn-out story short, the man Hughes and I conquered Edinburgh today and succeeded in beating the marathon gods and beating the crap run demons! We can now sleep and revel in our glory and prepare for tomorrow when we won’t be able to do stairs!

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