Washed out

I was less than a mile from the house when I realised I hadn't packed any gels. I toyed with the idea of texting the Minx, who I knew would happily drive out and bring me some, but it was still early, and, to be honest, I was sure I would be OK.

I took the first couple of miles slowly enough, and then cycled through different paces. Mile fourteen was intended to be a faster pace - and it was fine: nine minutes thirty - but then everything went tilt.

I didn't seem to have anything left in my legs. Nothing was hurting or feeling particularly tired, I just didn't seem to have any energy, no reserves at all. 

And so it was that the last four miles were pretty painful, and I really had nothing left when I made it back to the house. I'd just about kept running all the way, but my pace at the very end was no better than walking pace. 

So, I am really hoping this is simply down to the gels. I've never felt I really relied on them that much before, but maybe they are essential for these longer distances. Anyway, twenty-one miles next weekend. I'll see how that goes *with* gels. 

I took today's photo just a few miles into the run when I was still enjoying myself. One of those places that looks closed down but maybe it's just now the season has ended.