I had such high hopes for a parkrun PB this morning in the searing -4 cold, but it was not to be. I chanted my new mantras "pop.tarts.are.the.answer" and "my.legs.are.a.machine" but sadly the sugary breakfast treat could not undo the damage of liberal pints of Bombardier the previous evening.
Seems to me now that maybe performance is random, and my pathetic attempts to cage it are just that - pathetic.
Roll on the next theory .....
sent from my 'droid
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