Last night, as I faffed around trying to get Google maps to play nicely and show the complete distance of my canal running adventures, the clock ticked past midnight and I realised with dread that I would have to do an early run in the morning. Arse. We are still in the throes of preparation for our camping trip and I still have to deal with the logistical nightmare of running every day and trying to corral all of my kit (clean) so that I can stay on the Juneathon wagon while we’re away.
As such, the alarm went off at 5.30 and I was out of the door by 6.00 to run a leisurely 3 miles, only really spotting the multiple-collie dog man on the way. Not a great deal happened.