I regret to inform you that my 100% Athon running record is no more.
The plan for the day was: arrive at campsite, get tent up, sort out belongings, go for a run and be home in time for tea under canvas. It was a good plan.
Unfortunately when we arrived at the campsite it was a bit breezy and despite the help of the site owner and another camper (who it turns out lives in the town where I went to school, isn’t it a small world etc) things didn’t go according to plan. In short, the tent suffered erectile dysfunction and two split pole sections later, we knew that there was no way it was going to be habitable.
We were too late for one camping shop in the yellow pages, another had turned into a furniture shop and the optimistic mercy dash to Halfords didn’t produce the goods. Luckily we were taken in by lovely relatives and didn’t have to spend the night in the car or JogBlog’s shed.
All of this explains how on the 22nd day of Juneathon, I am claiming a late evening dog walk to the beach (suggested by Morning of Magicians) as the day’s effort.
Applying the benchmark of ‘it counts for an Athon if it’s something that you wouldn’t do normally’ I feel that this is the case because normally I have access to neither dogs nor a beach. On the other hand, if I admitted defeat I could spend the next eight days concentrating on enjoying my holiday…
Anyway, in the holiday spirit we made sure that we enjoyed a local ale (thanks Adele!) or two before retiring to our temporary home for the night.