…crowned with wreaths of daffodil’, which always seemed odd to me as we sang that chorus from one of J.S. Bach’s secular cantatas in the school choir. It must be damned hard to make a wreath out of daffodils. I tried to find the German text, to compare the original, but without luck. The chorus goes on, cheerfully, to remind us that. ‘soon will come the winter’s cold, Soon our hearts grown dull and old’.

Today’s long run had both elements, vernal pleasures such as snowdrops and lambs, and reminders of my age and dullness. Although the intention was to do twelve miles, taking in Firle Beacon, which would have been four miles less than the programme required, after the fourth mile, as I began the ascent to Firle Bostal, I realised how unfit I still am. My pulse was prestimissimo and my legs felt as if they couldn’t carry me another mile, never mind another eight. I turned and ran down, making my way home across country to the path from Bo Peep. I’m afraid to say I walked up the hills. In the event, I ran 9.6 miles by the time I reached home. I had taken no drink with me, and I’m sure some water and perhaps a gel might have helped. Perhaps I should not have returned to training so soon. Still, it is behind me. and I press on to Eastbourne next Sunday.

I have now abstained from fermented and distilled liquors for a week. I must say I feel much better for it even though I recognise the truth of the old drunk’s saw that, when you’re sober, how you feel when you wake up is as good as you’re going to feel all day.

Total mileage this week: 29.78
One week to the Eastbourne half marathon
Seven weeks to the Brighton marathon