Home for Mothers Weekend and forgot my shorts, hence breaking in these new ones. Zipped pockets though FTW.
Usually I turn left at the bridge to run by the canal to the Britannia Stadium and back. Feeling I’ll need a change of scenery for motivation, I turn right.
Cold. Bit of drizzle. Jacket on. Guardian Football Weekly podcast playing. Ideal.
Some lovely barges round this end.Like a posh, pedestrian mobile home on water.
No dog walkers, this is awesome.
Ooo, there’s Wedgwood.
Now it’s Barlaston, lovely little village.
No, don’t wave at the passing train. What are you, ten?
There’s an actual llama farm. I didn’t even know that existed this close to my childhood home.
This pair of lads are running a hell of a lot faster than me. They actually seem out of breath.
Ow, tight hamstring. That’ll be why. Don’t strain yourself.
Pretty sure I’m going so slow I’m giving myself a cold.
Stone. Halfway. I remember this lock, it was part of the school run on the way to primary school, I actually believed bears roamed those woods. Idiot.
There’s my nursery school, halcyon days.
Ow, actually feels like my right kneecap is about to bounce off.
Plus my left sock has a hole my big toe is popping itself through. Let’s just get this over with.
14.34km in 115 minutes. IS THAT IT? Ugh. So slow http://www.mapmyrun.com/workout/1371526901