I can’t understand it. I enjoyed the Brentwood Half-Marathon far more than another 3 weeks ago, hardly noticed my left knee niggle, felt sure I’d be at least 10 minutes faster at halfway, yet my finishing time was the same, even a few seconds slower at 2 hours 22+ minutes.

If I lived in the real world, I suppose I’d have to admit that my target time for London is now hopelessly out of reach. Since I don’t, I’m not yet ready to abandon my ambition. Miracles do happen, don’t they?

In case there is any doubt, when I say I am a Barking road runner I’m referring to the part of London that gives my club its name, not to my mental state.

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