Which roughly translates to hellish hot run.
Hellish.
It was actually quite pleasant to start with. Kind of nice to be in the warm for once. I did what my friend Jelly says to do, just focused on the route, not the time or the miles. I knew exactly where I was going, to the exact tree that marks 10 miles along the railway. It is where I once saw an eagle, and I've cycled there lots.
All I thought about was that tree, and how once that was done, it was all homeward bound.
At mile 14, an obnoxious family were taking over the path, I called excuse me, they looked but didn't really move, so I ran around them, leaving the path and going into the long grass, and putting my foot down a rabbit hole and doing an amazing kind of trip-but-not-falling thing.
My ankle wasn't happy, but I don't think I've done anything serious to it.
The gravel path was slippy under my feet. There were cows out everywhere, so lots of flies for me to swallow.
I had two water bottles on my pack, and I assumed I had been drinking mainly out of one, but it was quite even, meaning at miles 15, on a bloody hot day, I was almost out of water.
After that things are a bit of a haze of walking and jogging. I got so thirsty I eventually stopped sweating, and was ridiculously hot and fantasising about cool water on my face when I arrived home. In a heap. With various bits of flies in my mouth I'd not been able to wash down.
I sat on the cool kitchen floor drinking, trying not to puke it back up again.
After a bath and some stretching I felt ok. My knee support is really doing it's job. I've only ever once walked on a long run and my knee was agony after, but today it was fine.
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