December 2009

So December, then. One run. A single, solitary 43-minute morning plod covering 7.1km at a pace that suggests I was either taking it very easy or the cold had got to my legs before my brain had finished its coffee. Seven achievements, apparently, which feels like Strava being generous given the circumstances. Still, it counts, and I did it, which in a dark, wet British December is probably worth more than the numbers suggest.

So after November's rather heroic effort — the Marlow Half Marathon, 21.3km, 125 minutes of actual commitment — this does look like I've rather fallen off a cliff. And honestly, I probably have. There's something about completing a half marathon that convinces your body it's earned a long rest, and December's weather has a way of making that argument very persuasively at 6am. The elevation drop from 377m down to 30m tells its own story too, though I'd rather not examine it too closely. The plan going into the new year will presumably involve doing more than one run a month, which feels like a low bar to set but, given recent form, is probably the right place to start.

Summary generated by Claude