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  • It’s two weeks since I found out that I’m running the London Marathon and training has started. That’s about as optimistic as I can be about it at the moment: it’s started.

    Last weekend I got hit by a bus while on my bike and spent 3 days in bed feeling sore and sorry for myself, which didn’t do my training any favours. This weekend I tried to fit running in to my normal life, which meant running home after eating a massive Sunday roast. I got halfway down OKR before I came the realisation that if I didn’t stop I was going to either puke or shit myself. As ever, a nutrition fail.

    I went to Dammit’s recommended physio this morning and have been told that my back is a horrible mess and my legs are lopsided. Apparently I don’t have any of the muscles needed for running, thanks to cycling, dancing and having my right leg cut in half. I’m banned from running outside – treadmills only – for the next 10 days as a minimum. And this evening I have to start making my hip flexors well acquainted with the foam roller.

    I’m not really enjoying this so far.

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