Yesterday I completed 14 gruelling miles in the small town and surrounding farmland of Tywyn, Mid Wales. "Race the Train" was the hardest race I have ever run, with the exception of the Liverpool Marathon, although that was difficult for different reasons.
I wasn't quite good enough to get under the 1 hour 48 minutes required to beat the train.
I'll post a report during the week when I've managed to collect my thoughts; it's not often I question why I run, and yesterday made me...
"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." -Theodore Roosevelt