It was bound to happen. I’ve spent the last 3 days wandering around in a little bubble of self pride. My runs were getting more fun, easier, faster… my weight was going down (half a stone now!) and I was in full self-congratulation mode…
…then I went for a run at lunch time.
It’s so hot out there! I mean, I realise technically it’s only about 12 degrees but I have only ever run when it’s really cold. Today felt like running on the surface of the sun. It pushed my heart rate up, made the hills seem hillier and my curses got filthier (I find swearing as I run helps).
Hateful, hellish, horrible hills. I hate them I hate them I hate them and I hate them even more when it’s not freezing to compensate for my fat.
