I went for a short run last night, the last before the big race. After ten minutes I pulled up in agony. My ankle, which I’d previously strained but thought I could run through, (it’s had physio and was strapped up), got the better of me. This morning when I woke up it was inflamed, swollen, still painful and tender.
I’m stubbon. The thought of not running the London Marathon fills me with loathing. I’ve trained so hard for it. To be taken away from me, the day before is hard to take. Even more so given how much people have sponsored me. For the sponsorship I’m truly grateful. I never expected such generosity. Thank-you. I feel that I’ve let you down.
To go out tomorrow would be folly; I could probably slowly jog/ walk around but that’s not the point. What started as a mission to complete it has now become an obsession. I’ve a time to beat. So here’s the plan. I’ve withdrawn from the London Marathon this year; my entry has been deferred to next year. I’m going to match the donations that have been given to date when I run it next year. And I’m entering the Amsterdam marathon in October. I can’t give up this running bug, waiting a year is too long. Thank you for your support. This morning I’m gutted. But it’s a marathon, not a sprint.