This was a short run, 5.6 miles, yet at about 3.5 miles I felt so weak I doubted I could carry on. In the event I walked up a hill and finished reasonably well. The conditions were splendid, a typical English country Sunday, larks sang overhead, flies flew into my mouth, and idiot ramblers blocked my passage. Then I realised that I ran today for the first time for a fortnight. So, while I thought that next Sunday's half marathon might be in doubt, I hope that. with a week of running in Rome in front of me, I may finish next Sunday in not too disgraceful a time.
