I felt like a right bag of potatoes today. My legs didn't seem to have any life - which was just as well really since Mrs B kept dropping back about a hundred miles. Each time I came to a turn I had to wait for her to come into sight before I could move on. If I'd been going quick it would have been annoying. As it was, it didn't really matter. The long run, as you might have guessed, did not materialise.
Eight miles was the distance with 1,300 feet of ascent. It was good conditions and a pleasant enough run through the woods but I just didn't ever get properly going. Ho hum.
It's not the total disaster though as Helen is off to the Black Mountains tomorrow so I'll jump on the band wagon and get my long run in then - provided the legs feel as though they are going to work...
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