Since yesterday, it seems.
I wasn't going to run yesterday, despite making a half-arsed promise to myself never to take more than a day off running at a time. I ran Friday, took Saturday off because I had a photoshoot to sort in the morning, which took the rest of the day out too. Sunday, photoshoot in the morning, then a monster roast dinner*, then much sitting on my arse.
However, I just couldn't ignore the urge to run. I ate my monster roast*, then came home, drank tea, got changed and went out. Now, running with IBS has many drawbacks, not least the general need to run on an empty stomach for fear upsetting the Shit Your Pants Gods. But this day, they must have been having a lie-in. No problems at all, of any kind - well, except that I found a 7.5 mile run kind of hard. It illustrated to me how far away I am from where I really ought to be in training.
Next week's long run will see me try to hit double figures. Could be fun.
I also did this one with a new bit of kit on my arm - a Timex GPS unit, which was kind of fun. Had to not look at my mile paces, as I find it depressing to have been doing this so long and still being so slow. But considering I had a full roast dinner in my belly and next to no energy anyway, I was happy to have done the run in under 10-minute mile pace. Not sure what it actually was, something like 9:45s I think.
Anyway, then I sorted out dinner, got drunk and fell asleep on the sofa. Job done, though perhaps not the most positive finish to the day!
* By this, I mean a large roast dinner. Not actually roast monster.