Well, the experiment failed at the first hurdle. I must remind myself that I need time to recover from difficult things - like four flights in 10 days, two of which were for 12 hours. I'm still absolutely fucking wiped out. Need more sleep, that kind of thing. So I haven't been out yet - not run, not swum, not gymmed. Juts mooched, and lounged, and sat on my expanding arse.
The plan is still on, but not until… Well, no time limit on this really. I just need to feel I have a little bit of energy first. I don't want to do anything in the morning only to discover I have to have a fucking nap in the afternoon. And all thanks to a 3.5 mile run in the morning. I'll just rest, recover, then come back with a vengeance. I'll know when - I'll probably start dreaming about running, then I'll know it's time…
Disappointing though, I must say.
PS: My new background picture is my gorgeous wife and lovely, lovely dawg walking on Nordy Bank. Nice, no?