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When I return to work on Tuesday, L asks if I’m basking in my post-marathon glory. Not really, as they all think I’m nuts.

In the evening I hobble through dog training while L goes to her running club where they play tag, supposedly after a hill session. She has now signed up to become a member and her transfer with UK Athletics has clearly been rushed through. Mine took months when I signed up with a new club. So she is now a Smalley Road Runner although I’m going to have to get the map out to show her where Smalley is.

On Wednesday, L and Daughter run the Trent 5 at Beeston. I decide to rest my legs, spectate, exercise the boys and try to stop the Lad joining in.

(Wednesday 22^nd May)

Plodding Up And Down A Damp Canal Path

Tonight I have the Trent 5 Mile Race at Beeston down as an option depending on the state of my knees. My knees tell me to give it a go, so then it’s just down to the weather. This seems to fine up just at the right moment.

L still isn’t over keen. She feels she should be curled up with a book, a glass of wine and a cute little dog at her feet, not plodding up and down a damp canal path. Problem is the cute little dog will have a ball in his mouth and he’ll want the back door open. We do the run.

My knees actually get rather carried away and run 7 minute miles, which is the fastest I’ve done this sort of event in for years. My pace was helped by the guy with noisy shoes who was running behind me, as I spent all five miles trying to get away from him. Still 35.02, pleased with that.

(Wednesday 28^th May)