All hail the underdogs.
Precisely as I hoped when I’d dreamt of it, I was genuinely revived by that Coke of Dreams, and it wasn’t long before I was once again fully committed to the cause. I wangled myself back into my pack before giving my legs an almighty whack like Usain Bolt in advance of an Olympic final. Sadly, they didn’t deliver Olympic-quailty pace, but they didn’t protest any more than they already had been, so I took that as a reasonably good sign. Still, the chimp didn’t seem to give a toss about my commitment, but took great delight in toying with me almost immediately as I realised I was more than a bit chilly having sat outside in a damp t-shirt for so long. As I stopped to dig out my arm sleeves, another runner approached and soon we were on our way towards Pinhaw Beacon. Much to my dismay, my head was having other ideas that looked nothing at all like ‘companionship’ but was instead trying to nestle back into ‘that dark ultra place’. As I worried about my negativity bringing someone else do...