Well it's that time of year when the clarion call of a 26.2 mile hoof around somewhere, somehow seems too hard to resist. This time my chosen locale to sweat, bleed and possibly cry is Liverpool, meaning on Sunday 29 May you'll be able to witness my mental and physical breakdown on its streets. Training has been long and, as per, at times, devastatingly hungover but no matter, we plod on. And on. And on. And on.
I'm endeavouring to raise some dosh for the Refugee Council as part of the trial. Myself and Craggsy ran for them last year when we tackled the Manchester Marathon so it seems good form to continue the tradition and try and do something nice for once.
You can check oot my JustGiving page here. There's not much happening at the moment but, as the tortoise said, slow and steady wins, or at least finishes, the race. At some point. Capise?
