(or the legs are willing, but the bowels are weak)

After a protracted period of preparation, I finally got out for my proposed long run after 11am. While warm, there was a pleasant light breeze and high cloud cover, so for me the conditions were perfect.

Unfortunately, although the legs were singing along the path, my middle bits were not happy from the first k - and complained louder with each metre. I managed to have a long stop at the Weston Park toilets, and was annoyed to see that there was so much blood once more. Once I started up again, the pain returned causing me to stop and walk to assess the situation. Much to my chargrain, being sensible meant neither continuing my run nor walking home - from past experience this aggrevates the situation to prevent running, cycling or swimming for days. I rang Bob from the yacht club, and he came and collected me.

I will keep on my clear liquid (medical nutritional supplement) diet and see if I can have a proper long run instead of my body falling apart after 14k or so in the next few days. I feel a bit flat after being primed for a long one and stopping after an hour.

Que sera sera. Tomorrow (and the day after that) is another day . . . .