Last nights club run was a bit of a brutal pace.
The first couple of miles through John Muir weren't too bad - probably slowed down a bit by the squishy, muddy conditions underfoot.
But after that it was "heads down" and the last six was run at near race pace.
No idea why the pace was so high, but I think it's maybe related to some sort of reluctance to accept that we are now losing light at nights and will soon by confined to the vibrant, bustling boulevards of downtown Dunbar. Unless of course we go for a head torch run - but they are generally a bit slower anyway. I'm sure we all know we only have a week or so left of getting out into the country and want to try and make the most of it.
Anyway - whatever the reason, last nights run was a bit of a tough one. Coupled with a quick six miler yesterday am and the race on Sunday, my legs feel a bit tender today.
So today's lunchtime run was a bit of a reduced mileage affair, run at what can best be described as "recovery pace".
I don't like hill running (hate it)....not too keen on running off roads....I've been teetotal for the best part of seven years.... So why in the name of arse have I entered the two breweries?? An 18 mile hill race with, I am led to believe, no discernible pathways at all (just loads and loads of thick, high, leg scratching heather) and it starts at one brewery and ends at another (where I believe beer is handed out??).