No. Not a crime. Today's the day I'm committing to doing this challenge. It's three months to go and my training is going well. Various long distance hilly, slow and steady jaunts in the bag. The knee is holding up. Back-to-backs and triple back-to-backs planned. 190 miles ticked off in February. Quite frankly, up until now, there was always a grey doubt-cloud hanging over me with my knee. I can't believe how far I've come, both in distance and confidence, from only a few months ago. A few days in Scotland on the Applecross Peninsula. 18 miles over the pass in the rain, making new friends with the animals.... ...to be rewarded with a lovely view of Skye as the rain clears and the run ends. This is why I do it. Another 26 miles back near home, running down memory lane as I do a loop around the Washburn Valley, up and along the Chevin, down to Menston (where I grew up) along the moors to Ilkley, and back to Timble. Su...
Let me take you back to the 1970s. The particular time I want to transport you to was when I was 6 or maybe 7 years old. Around 1976 to 77. Long hot summers when we were left to our own devices to entertain ourselves. No electronic devices of course, cycling instead for what seemed like miles; playing in the woods; climbing through the cavernous concrete pipe that channelled the stream under the farm track; swings on trees that reached for the sky. Every day was summer, or so it felt. This was the time when I was obsessed with looking through the Guinness Book of Records. Cover to cover. Again and again. Including the now hazy memory of seeing a picture of someone who'd completed LEJOG in the fastest time, on something like roller skates. This was the time when there was the Montreal Olympics. I don't remember watching it on TV, but I do remember being given a book that listed and pictured all the winners with their amazing feats. Cover to cover. Reading it again and ...