Much as I wanted to lie in my bed this morning... I did not. I pulled on my shorts, vest and Garmin and off I plodded for the Half Marathon. It started well enough and I thought... Goodness, I'm not right at the back. But then I reached Mile 1 and realised that, yes, I was at the back. In fact, for the first time ever I was the last runner.
This would not have been all bad as the marshalls were lovely and I seemed to be getting lots of cheers and encouragement from the spectators ( God Bless you all !! ) But my knee started to go a bit doo lally and I decided to quit. I wasn't as bothered as I would have been a few years ago. I just thought that it was better to drop out than risk real damage. So I dropped out... and went home and after a big roast lunch I went to bed for an hour.
There. My athletics career on a plate.