This morning’s effort at 4×10 mins induced some sort of hysterical reaction involving a lot of toys being chucked out of a very large pram, culminating in an enraged email to my colleague Andrew asking ‘WHEN DOES IT GET EASIER????’
He broke it to me gently. It doesn’t. I was horrified. What, you mean it’s like this every time? Yes. What, right until the very end? Yup.
I thought there’d be some magical point where it would all become a lot easier, a lot less sweaty, even a bit enjoyable and I’d be different – turning from the running equivalent of an ugly duckling into a swan. But now I realise that I’ll never be that swan (sniff, lower lip trembles, weeps quietly into hankie).
I’ll go and have a lie down. I’ve had a big shock today.