Tuesday 19 February 2008

36

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After almost three weeks brought down to Earth by a slightly sore toe I am not in the best of moods. I'm sick of swimming, I can't be bothered with it any more. No longer am I expecting to arrive in the Sahara as one of the fittest stages of my life. Instead I'm going to arrive there in the hope that I am simply just fit enough to get through the race, and motivated enough to not let my admin slip so that I fall apart and actually flop.
Sadly then I'm going to postpone my entry for the London Marathon: I'm not going to get my target time of 2.50 now so I'll settle for trying again next year.
Still on the cards though is the
(100 miles on Easter Weekend) which is one of those classic British events (like a
and the
) that just need ticking off in life. My partner, Lucy, is raring to go: all we need now is to find a canoe! And a date to practice together.

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