Don’t stop believin’!

Miles to go before I sleep

Yesterday, I won a race. Over the past few years, this has been happening fairly regularly and quite honestly, it’s a bit weird. I sort of feel outside of myself on days like this: people are congratulating me, saying cool things about me being an inspiration and a speedy runner, but it just doesn’t feel like they’re talking about me. So while this is going to be a race report, it’s also a bit of an offload about why this stuff means so much to me.

People who have known me for more than about 10 years will know that I’m not sporty. My friends used to call me ‘Dictionary’ and there was nothing I liked better than sitting in my room, reading. Sport at school was my idea of hell. I was a bit dumpy, had no coordination and just didn’t enjoy any kind of physical activity. I mean…

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