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The bags are in the hallway. The last 3-miler run. If none of the 2,307 (and counting) things that I've envisaged going wrong happen, then I should make it to the start line.
Last week I ran a 5 mile out-and-in and at the turn-around point found myself almost unconsciously walking and for a mile I just went totally negative. I hadn't trained enough, my feet would never hold up, air travel aggravates gout, my body-clock will think it's running the race at 1:45am and so on. Eventually I broke into a trot again, but I admit that I've never felt so intimidated by a forthcoming race as at that moment.
Fortunately there have been a few better runs since then and what am I going to do anyway, not run the race? In the end, it's just another long run. You find your pace, get a few miles under your belt and settle down for the duration. And at the end of this one, at least you get a medal!
So we're off to London in 30 minutes and I don't know if I'll get a chance to blog again before the race, so I'd like to say a few words about my brother Anthony. It's not the sole reason for running the LM of course, but I have tried to raise some money for the Meath Foundation in Anthony's memory. He suffered from epilepsy and he died far too young as a result. But he was brave and cheerful in the face of a great deal of adversity and when the going gets tough on Sunday (and it will) I'll be thinking of Anthony and I'll do my best to put on a smile just as he always did.
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Well done, you, and best of luck for the day. See you there!! Andrea x