Day 116: Tapering, Treacle Mornings and the Final Few Steps
Back to work today. The alarm went off at 5am, with all the grace and charm of a fire drill in a monastery. I lay there for a moment, blinking into the darkness, wondering which life decisions had brought me to this precise point—specifically, the one where I willingly agreed to run 26.2 miles through London in front of thousands of people with questionable signage. But up I got, limbs creaking into motion like a badly written spell trying to animate a skeleton. Getting dressed in the early morning chill felt like an act of silent defiance. Coffee helped. A lot. And by the time I reached work—just after sunrise—I’d managed to transition from “shambling spectre” to “functioning human.” There’s something oddly comforting about watching the world wake up while you’re already moving. The streets were quiet, the sky streaked with soft pinks and golds and for a few peaceful minutes, it felt like the universe was tiptoeing into Tuesday right alongside me. The Most Uneventful Run in Human Hi...